


Happily (Mostly) Ever After

by stillslightlynerdy



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1937763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillslightlynerdy/pseuds/stillslightlynerdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The episodic sequel to "Once Upon a Time In Arendelle." A series of short stories about life, love, and the education of snowmen. For those who might possibly be new to this premise, it's probably easier if you read Once upon a time ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

_**Family Matters: Chapter 1** _

Fitzwilliam wasn't sure what noise woke her up, but the next thing she heard was someone jiggling the door handle. It wouldn't be a servant. It was the middle of the night, and they would knock until Elsa answered them even if it were an emergency.

"Elsa," she gently shook the sleeping body next to her.

"Mmmm, not time yet. Go asleep," Elsa muttered batting away her hand. The queen was not someone notably easy to waken.

Still there was an important question that needed answering, this time the shake was not so gentle. "Elsa, Elsa – did you lock the door?"

"Mmmm uh … too early. Go 'way."

Anna would knock too since she knew Fitzwilliam was staying the night. She had learned that lesson. Well, they had all learned that lesson, which was why Fitz hoped the door was locked. It was true that right now they were actually just sleeping, but still ... she waited and covered herself up fully with the sheet just in case.

The door handle jiggled again, but the door didn't open. Fitzwilliam sighed in relief and relaxed. She was settling in to wrap herself around the sleeping queen when she heard another noise. Someone was picking the lock.

Instantly Fitzwilliam was wide awake. She slid out of bed and grabbed her sword from where it stood near the bed, unsheathing it in one smooth motion.

The lock clicked as she crouched on the side of the door that would be opened first, her weapon poised. After she gutted this intruder she was going to have a long pointed conversation with the queen's guard about their duties.

The door opened.

Fitzwilliam thrust forward expecting to meet the resistance of clothing and flesh. She almost toppled over when her sword swished through … nothing. Her hand slammed into something cold.

"Oh look at that. I've been impaled. Again." This was not the reaction Fitzwilliam had been expecting.

She looked down to where the voice was coming from. In the dim light from the window she saw something … moving. It was small. Bloody hell! A child! she thought irrationally. Please don't let it be a child. Then whatever it was backed up off her sword, apparently none the worse for wear, and walked through a shaft of light into the room. It was … a snowman? Holding a carrot in its hand? With a cloud over its head? A cloud that was snowing?

"Hi, I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs." The thing stuck the carrot back in its face and extended two twig arms at her.

"Elsaaaa!" she bellowed.

"What, what, what?!" Elsa sat bolt upright and looked frantically around the room, little snowflakes flying from her fingertips.

Olaf, however, continued on his original mission. "And you are?" He politely asked Fitzwilliam as if being being impaled in the middle of the night was a routine occurrence.

Through her muddled panic Elsa heard the familiar voice. It only took her a moment to place it. "Olaf?" she asked as she pulled the sheet up.

"No, I'm Olaf ..." the snowman pointed at himself and then looked at Fitzwilliam who had backed up to the bed and was groping unsuccessfully for her dressing gown. She had sheathed her sword, but her eyes were still locked on him. "Unless your name is Olaf, too? That would be kind of confusing, though," Olaf supposed.

"Olaf, would you please just give us a minute?" Elsa asked the snowman.

"Sure," he said with a nod and began counting, his eyes vaguely pointed at the ceiling. "One, two, three ..."

" _Outside_  my bedroom, please."

"Oh, OK." He trundled out.

"What in bloody hell is that?" Fitzwilliam turned to Elsa, her eyes wide.

"Calm down and put something on," Elsa threw Fitz a sleeping shirt and got out of bed, slipping into her robe. She seemed remarkably unruffled for someone whose bedroom had just been invaded by animate snow.

Fitzwilliam was decidely ruffled. "That was a talking snowman? It was talking … and walking. With a snow cloud over its head!"

"That's Olaf." Elsa lit a candle.

"The talking snowman."

"Anna and I made him as kids … well him I made, but … it's complicated." She walked over and then lit a lamp on the dresser.

"It's alive?"

"Yes ..." Elsa shrugged apologetically, "I mean, I think so. He seems to be … right?"

"Sixty!" The snowman burst back through the door, as enthusiastic as a child. "Now, let's try that again." He waddled up to Fitzwilliam. "Hi, I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs."

"Hello," she said warily, ignoring his outstretched arms.

"And you are … also Olaf?" he said gesturing for her to continue the conversation.

Elsa answered for her. "Olaf, that's …. call her Fitz. And didn't we discuss knocking before you come into my bedroom?"

"I knocked," he said with conviction.

"And waiting to be invited in?"

"Ooooh, I knew there was something else." He nodded as if now that made all the sense in the world. "But the door was locked. You never lock your door, Anna said so."

"Olaf." Elsa explained as if she were talking to a six-year-old, which apparently she was. "When I have my door locked it means I don't want anyone to just come in."

"But," he pointed his twig arm at Fitz. "She's in here."

"Well, yes ..." Elsa looked at Fitz for help.

Who just sat back on the bed and crossed her arms. "Oh, no. I'll wait for you to explain this one, honey."

Elsa decided, like most parents, that ignoring the question was the best tactic. "Olaf. It's the middle of the night. Is there something in particular you wanted?"

"I missed you," he said in a little voice.

Elsa's heart turned to mush, and she found herself with a bit of a lump in her throat. She crossed over to him and knelt down to his height. "And I missed you, too, little guy."

He trundled over to Elsa's open arms, and she gave him a big hug. It had been several weeks since he had been here at the castle. She, and, well, everyone else she had asked, had decided that a walking, talking snowman was probably not the best addition to her rather public birthday celebration. But she still felt more than a little guilty about sending him up to visit his "brother" at the ice palace for such an extended time. She felt she needed to make it up to him. And really, there was only one way to do that. "But you know what? Tomorrow, we can spend the whole day together, how about that?"

"The whole day?" His eyes lit up and he clapped his twigs together. "That's wonderful!"

The expression on Fitzwilliam's face was giving off a distinct impression of 'that's really not so wonderful.'

"So," Elsa gave Olaf a gentle push back to the door, "How about you let me go back to sleep, and I'll see you at breakfast."

"OK. I'll go see if Sven's up. I haven't talked to Sven in a long time." He looked over at Fitz and jerked his head toward the door. "Why don't you come with me to see Sven?"

"That's OK. Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll just stay right here," Fitz managed to answer. She was having a conversation. With a snowman. With a snowstorm over its head.

The snowman came over to her and whispered loudly, "I think Elsa wants to be alone. She had her door locked."

"Yeah, about that," she glanced over where Elsa was making frantic hand signals that clearly said, 'you're not going there.' "I don't think I'm … up for seeing Sven tonight. But thanks for the heads up on Elsa. I'll make sure I'm not disturbing her."


	2. Family Matters

By now Elsa and Fitzwilliam had their morning routine settled. First there was bathing. Elsa preferred the morning, Fitz was fine with waiting until after working out with Anna, but they quickly figured out that it could not happen at the same time … that sort of poor scheduling led to canceled audiences, canceled sword lessons, canceled mornings in general.

Fitz could sleep an extra half hour if she chose, and she often did, something Elsa found annoying, but the fact was when you only had to pull on buckskin breeches, a shirt, a waistcoat, a coat and some top boots … perhaps tying a cravat if you were feeling formal … you were out the door well before someone who had to worry about a significant amount of hair and putting on make-up even if they could literally create their own dress in seconds. Fitz still remained amazed that someone who most often did create their own clothing still needed an enormous closet and two chests of drawers … minus the drawer she had for her undergarments, shirts, breeches and neckcloths.

They generally arrived to breakfast at the same time, always well before Anna. Fitz had bullied the staff into making what she called "a decent cup of tea." Elsa drank her coffee with cream and a small mound of sugar. Someone had apparently instructed a young princess that "breakfast was the most important meal of the day," and she being the perennial good girl had taken it quite to heart. As a result Elsa always entered the dining room to a full and balanced meal consisting of eggs, fish, pastries, groats, bread and sometimes more fish.

Fitz, on the other hand, thought that plain bread was just fine, thank you, unless you had a hangover, then a Bloody Mary was also required. Since she had spent the first eleven years of her life as the daughter of "the egg woman of Bromley" she felt she really didn't need to eat or even see another egg again. She wouldn't have said no to kidney or liver … or even beans … but they never seemed to be on the menu. Fitz also despaired of ever finding a decent head cheese in this barbaric hinterland. She knew for a fact that Elsa had left very clear instructions that this treat, and its cousin souse, were never to be found on her breakfast table. Sadly, in Arendelle just as in the Avalonian navy, rank had its privileges.

"So," Fitz began easily, reaching over to grab a roll from Elsa's plate. "Olaf?"

"Ummm?" Elsa finished chewing and took a delicate sip of coffee. "What about Olaf?"

"Well, I was promised an explanation this morning." She firmly tapped the roll on the table.

"Oh, I thought I had explained. Last night." She looked over at Fitzwilliam tapping the bread and her eyes widened, "Oh please..."

"Sorry, habit." Fitz caught sight of Elsa's expression. "Really bad habit."

Elsa took another sip of coffee and tried desperately not to think about the roll. Soon after Fitz had begun joining them regularly for meals Anna, never one to put satisfying her curiosity behind decorum, had asked, "So, why do you bang the bread on the table?"

Fitz's absent-minded response, "Weevils." After she said it she suddenly realized both women were looking at her in bewilderment. She had gone on blithely unaware of the impact of her words. "The rations on a ship at sea for months get infested. So we tap the bread or hard tack to get rid of the weevils." She had shrugged.

First Anna had asked her sister what a weevil was, then she had run from the table, her hand over her mouth. Elsa had glared at Fitz, fighting down her own gorge.

Which was exactly the same thing as was happening now. Elsa pushed away her half finished breakfast. Avalon, its navy, its navy's rotten vermin filled rations, they all conspired against her.

"About Olaf," Fitz said changing the topic back to something more palatable. "So ummm ...why did you make him?"

Elsa launched into a slightly breathless, very fast explanation that told Fitz that not only was she not thinking about what she was saying, but that she didn't want to think about what she was saying. "After I ran off, after the coronation from hell, I started using my powers; I hadn't used them intentionally in years. I just made something that I remembered from when Anna and I were kids, and we used to play … with my powers. That was Olaf. I didn't think he would be alive. He wasn't at first. He just stood there, like a normal snowman, when I walked away further up the mountain."

Fitzwilliam nodded, while she considered her next question. She had only been in Arendelle a little over a month, which meant really she had only been with Elsa for three weeks. However, even in that short time she had developed a few insights into her beloved. The first, most obvious, was that the habits of thirteen years of solitude and concealing the most important things about oneself were not easily shed. Elsa had a very thick shell, although admittedly her sister had been succeeding in thinning it out a bit. Under that shell was a very sensitive, vulnerable woman. The trick was recognizing when you were approaching a sensitive area, and that was not always easy.

Her gaze went to the clock that ticked quietly on the fireplace mantle nearby. For a woman whose life ran on a tight schedule Elsa owned remarkably few clocks. None in her bedroom, none in her study, none in the small office up in her suite. Fitzwilliam, in a moment of grumpiness one morning over a servant knocking yet again to let Elsa know what time it was, had asked, "Why don't you just get a clock for the bedroom?"

Several hours, three slammed doors and a small ice storm later, she had realized that Elsa just couldn't stand the sound of a ticking clock when she was alone. It didn't take too long after that for Fitz to figure out that if you were alone all the time, something ticking … reminding you exactly how long you had been alone, how slowly your life was passing … was understandably discomforting. Elsa still felt embarrassed about admitting that, except of course she hadn't exactly admitted it.

Clearly Olaf fit into this category of "things that she doesn't want to talk about but are probably very important for me to know." Fortunately Fitzwilliam had been learning patience. Unfortunately she had started with a very severe deficit.

"Um, OK. So, can we expect regular visits from him at night?" Another thing she had learned was to listen carefully to what Elsa said, like 'him,' "because that might … umm … change our lifestyle a bit." She gave the queen a little wink.

"No," Elsa chuckled, clearly feeling on safer ground now. It marveled Fitz how sex turned out to be 'safer ground.' Not that she was complaining in the least, but it spoke to how unique Elsa was. Of course calling Elsa unique was a bit like calling the sun 'bright.'

"I'll talk to him," Elsa continued, reaching over and squeezing Fitz's arm affectionately. "And I did say I would spend the day with him. Do you mind?"

Of course she minded … this was a snowman … a snowman being chosen over her for one of Elsa's very rare days off. Patience … patience … listen. "No, I need to spend some time with Anna today anyway. She's getting better. I think we can start really pushing. Start really doing some serious drills."

Elsa smiled, "I believe Anna thinks she IS doing serious drills."

"Anna is wrong," Fitz quipped with a grin.

As if cued by her name , Anna came in with Olaf in tow. "Oh, look there's mommy!" Anna said, giving the snowman a push toward Elsa.

Hot, strong tea spewed all over the table, and Fitzwilliam descended into a panicked coughing fit.

"Hi, little guy," Elsa said to Olaf while reaching over to pat Fitz on the back and whispering, "I swear, that's all Anna." But it was obvious that the moniker didn't bother her.

Olaf stumped right over, arms wide for his requisite warm hug, and then asked, "Is she going to be OK? I mean she needs to breathe right? I don't, but I figured she might."

"I'm fine," Fitz hacked, "Thank you for asking." She glared over at Anna, "You … training yard .. as soon as you're done here." Then she stood, buckled her sword belt on and leaned over to kiss Elsa. The kiss lasted a good minute, something Elsa realized when she heard a whispered, "fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine ..."

By the time Anna had hastily eaten breakfast and made it to the training yard, Fitzwilliam had stripped down to her shirtsleeves and had warmed up. Anna watched for a few minutes while the former captain performed a series of lightening quick moves ending with something that involved a turn. Anna despaired of ever being that graceful. She had watched Fitz spar more than once with Captain Larsson or/and some of his guards, and Fitz always looked supremely in control of both her sword and the fight.

"Ah, good … you're out." Fitzwilliam said when she noticed Anna's entrance. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" Anna asked, "Uh, with my hands?" Fitz was not amused. "OK. Like I just ate breakfast."

"Yes, I thought so," Fitzwilliam snorted. "I was thinking we could run some wind sprints this morning." Anna paled a little. "But I really don't want to see that salmon again." Fitz trotted over to where the straw dummy was tucked away in the shadow of the courtyard wall, and then trotted back something in her hand. "Here," she tossed the extra scabbard at Anna, "so how about this?"

Anna looked at the scabbard. Then she pulled the sword it enclosed out. "Wow," she exclaimed. "Wow, wow, wow! This is real!"

"Actually it's rebated. The edge is ground down, so neither of us lose things we might need later. But yes, it was actually a real sword."

"It's a real sword!" Anna danced around clutching it to her breast. "My first real sword."

Fitz had to smile, and then she scowled, clearly she was turning soft. "I think you should save the appellation "real sword" for a weapon that will actually cut something."

"It's my first 'looks like a real sword.'" Anna's happiness was not to be deterred.

"Very well, then, Since we're celebrating, might I talk to you for a moment?" Fitzwilliam found herself a little hesitant. She and Anna talked all the time when they were together socially, such as at dinner. But by unspoken agreement they had never actually discussed Elsa while not in her presence. Doing that seemed to Fitz rather an invasion of the very reserved queen's privacy. Now she was going to violate that agreement, and she hoped that it didn't explode in her face like some poorly primed pistol.

"Sure. Fire away."

Fitz knew that Anna couldn't read minds, but sometimes she did seem scarily prescient. "So … Olaf. Do you know … I mean Elsa said that you two made him originally together as children … so where does this living one come from? I mean do you know why she made him?"

"Oh," Anna sighed. "Well kinda not really. And maybe."

"I am sorry if I was prying, you don't need to answer that," Fitz said quickly, assuming Anna was trying to brush off the question.

"No, I mean I really don't know too much about the first time we made him."

"It was a long time ago."

"No, Fitz, it's that … well, my memories of that time were changed by the trolls It was all part of healing me after Elsa struck me with her powers by accident." Anna frowned but kept on talking. "Anyhow, I can't trust anything I 'know' about my childhood before I was five. And anything I can trust is after Elsa … you know … went away."

"Oh." Fitzwilliam digested this revelation. It made her appreciate all the more that both sisters had suffered the trauma of their childhood.

Anna walked over to a bit of shade that was near the courtyard wall and sat down. Fitz followed her, for once not worrying about her breeches. "But you're not prying. I mean, I figure that my life is mine to discuss. If you want Elsa's version, though, you do need to talk to her. And this isn't something we agree upon … the whole changing Anna's memories, keeping her away from her sister, not telling her why she is being kept away from her sister … I'm still pretty angry about that. Elsa says that I just don't understand, and that our parents were trying to do the best thing for us, and that she was really dangerous to me. I say that I get to be angry …. and that what is really wrong is that she doesn't feel like she can be angry." Anna shrugged. "So far we just agree to disagree. And you know how stubborn she is."

Fitz had to smile at the last remark. "Indeed."

Anna just stuck her tongue out at Fitz but continued, "So here is what I 'remember' about Olaf. And what I think is important about him."

Fitz listened intently as Anna described her altered memories of her early life with her sister. She talked about Olaf, and skating, and sledding, and how all of it always involved snow and winter, and how happy all those memories were. How she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that her sister loved her and had been her best friend. She also told her about meeting the current Olaf while on her way to find her sister after she froze Arendelle. She talked about his obsession with summer and "all things hot," his love of flowers, and children, and warm hugs. And lastly what she knew about that night on the North Mountain, and what she thought had happened.

"So really, if you ask me, he's the part of Elsa that wanted all of those things, to go outside, to play, to hug people ..." Anna sniffed softly and she teared up. "She just wanted to hug someone. All that time, and no one hugged her. I hate thinking about that. I just hate it."

Fitz reached out hesitantly and wrapped her arms around the young woman and held her while her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Finally Anna was able to speak again. "Olaf just happened when she dropped all those walls that kept her from her magic. And ..." she chuckled between sniffs, "He has a brother. Marshmallow. That's the part of Elsa that's brave and bad ass, with spikey things on her shoulders and a big roar. She made him intentionally you know, to throw me out of her ice palace … to 'protect me' … like that worked anyway. Like a little roaring can get rid of me." She rolled her eyes. "And ya know, just like her, he's a real softy underneath."

Fitz nodded. They sat together in the shade, in silence for a while, both wrapped up in their thoughts. Finally Fitz elbowed the princess. "So, do you think you can find a little bit of that anger … you know … when we're practicing today?"

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not to me … yet. I mean eventually I might have to worry. But right now, I think maybe you could use it to get a little of your frustration out."

Anna thought for a second. "Yeah, sure. I mean how much worse can I be?"

"You do know you're getting better at this, right?" Fitz said sternly. Nothing was more frustrating than a student who deprecated themselves. Lack of skill, lack of confidence ... both could kill you in a fight. She added to the list of things to work on with Anna. Bravado aside, Fitz sensed that Anna could be as unsure of herself as Elsa was.

Anna turned dramatically, and brought her hand to her forehead in exaggerated disbelief. "What is that? Is that a compliment from the evil Captain Fitzwilliam? It can't be? Has the earth stopped turning? Hell frozen over? Winter storm in July?"

"Fine," Fitz growled, "And that's evil former Captain Fitzwilliam to you. Now, let's go break in that almost real practice sword of yours."

Elsa and Olaf spent the morning down in the city of Arendelle. They looked at flowers. They played with children. They sat out in the sun. They bought chocolate. Well, Elsa bought chocolate; Olaf cheered her on.

Now they were back in the castle gardens. Olaf had just finished reprising his "happy snowman" dance to Elsa and a family of ducks when he slid over next to her and hopped up on the bench where she was sitting.

"So who's this Fitz?" he said without any prelude.

Elsa had been expecting this, and she was glad that he had brought it up. Well, who was she kidding, she would have been gladder if he hadn't brought it up and just decided not to pick the lock on her door anymore, but since she didn't see that happening, she was glad he brought it up.

"She's someone very special to me," she answered.

"I'm special to you," Olaf asserted, "and Anna's special to you."

"Yes, but this is … a different special."

"How?"

"Well ..." Elsa thought and decided that this was a good moment to reiterate the don't enter my bedroom without an invitation rule. "You know last night, she was in my bedroom. Well, Fitz and I are sharing the room now. We sleep together. And that's a special thing that people who love ..." she didn't get to finish.

"But why? I mean you sleep with Anna." Olaf' frowned with concern. "Does this mean you're not going to sleep with Anna anymore?"

"Yes. No. Yes. It's different," she stammered.

"Different how?" Olaf asked again.

If only Olaf knew how to read, Elsa thought. She knew there were books in her library that covered this topic. She knew that because her own parents had decided to leave them in prominent places rather than have this discussion with her … something that she herself had greatly appreciated at the time ...

"But how is it different?" The snowman asked again. "Do you love Fitz more than you love me and Anna?"

"Oh no," Elsa said emphatically pulling him into a warm hug. "That's not true at all. I love you and Anna so very much. I love you … you're my Olaf. There is only one of you, and you are so special to me. I love Anna; she's my sister, and there is only one of her and she's special to me."

"And you love Fitz?"

"Yes!" Her eyes lit up. She was on a roll now. "Yes, I love Fitz like …" she paused. "Like … like Kristoff loves Anna and Anna loves Kristoff." That was it. She had done it. Score one for the ice queen.

"But Kristoff loves Sven," Olaf said in obvious confusion. "And Sven loves Kristoff. Kristoff is Sven's human." He thought for a moment. "Do you love Fitz like Kristof loves Sven?"

"No!" Elsa said emphatically.

Then Elsa took a breath and leaned down so that she and her snowman were eye to eye. "How about this my little guy, you're just going to have to trust me that I love you; I love Anna; I love Kristoff, and I love Fitz and all of you are special, and I love you in different ways."

Olaf nodded, "OK, yeah."

"And one of the things that is different is that when my bedroom door is locked you have to knock and wait for one of us, Fitz or me, to open it."

Olaf nodded again, "OK, yeah."

"And I promise," Elsa said very earnestly, "that one of us will answer the door if you keep knocking and wait." Her voice dropped to a mutter as she pictured the scene in her head, "probably Carolina."

Olaf blinked. "Who's Carolina?" he asked. "Are you sleeping with Carolina? Do you love Carolina like you love Fitz?"

Elsa buried her head in her hands. A tutor, she was getting Olaf a tutor. It was definitely time to teach him to read.


	3. Family Matters

Elsa and Olaf slowly made their way back to the castle. The day had been an utter delight for both of them.. They had enjoyed a picnic, with Olaf happily running around with the checkered blanket around his neck, and lying on their backs naming the clouds. A lengthy conversation about the benefits of learning to read had rounded out the day. Now they came in through the small side gate to the courtyard.

As the gate closed behind them they heard the some shouting and the sound of a scuffle. "Oooof. Hey, that's cheating!"

"There is nothing gentlemanly about corps-a-corps. Now, what can you do from … uh ... ah!"

Elsa heard the pained yelp coming from the courtyard and hurried her steps. Her sister came around the corner running toward her. They just missed a collision. Olaf however wasn't as fortunate, and he went flying in three different directions. As the princess picked herself up off the ground, the queen noticed how dirty and disheveled Anna was, even more than usual.

"Anna, are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's just a scratch." She looked over at Elsa conspiratorially, "You should see the other guy."

Fitz rounded the corner in what would have been hot pursuit if she hadn't been limping. "There you are, you little ..."

"Hey, hey … you said there was nothing gentlemanly …"

"Right," Fitz growled, taking another step forward.

Afraid she might be about to lose one of them, Elsa interposed herself between her lover and her sister. "Problem?"

"Nothing that a little regicide won't fix."

"Um, that's me. So let's not get too hasty here."

"Yes," parroted Anna, grinning like a maniac, "PRINCESSCIDE carries the same penalty, so let's not get too hasty just because it was your butt that hit the dirt for once!"

"OK," Fitz said straightening herself up. "I'm fine. It's all under control. I'm under control."

"So what happened?" Elsa asked.

"I surprised Admiral Slowpo... ahhh!"

Fitz grabbed Anna and threw her over her shoulder, using her left hand to keep Anna's kicking legs from hitting her in the face. Over the princess' indignant yells, she said "Your sister has a hell of a right, did you know that?"

"I actually did." Elsa answered.

Olaf meanwhile had gotten back up, found his butt with both hands, and reassembled himself. He ran over to the three of them. "Hey, that looks like fun. Can I play too?"

"You're next," Fitz grinned at the snowman as she walked back toward the training area, still carrying Anna, still favoring her right leg. Talking to Elsa she added, "We kicked it up a notch today. Anna did really well. I think she tapped into some … hidden resource of power."

Anna grunted as she continued to struggle, pounding on Fitz's back. "Put me down!"

"As you wish, your Highness," Fitz replied and flipped her forward, dumping her into a water barrel.

"Assault on a Princess is a ..."

Fitz silenced the accusation by pushing the sputtering Anna's head back under the water. Then she looked at Olaf, "Your turn."

Olaf let out a giddy "Wheee!" of glee as Fitz picked him up and threw him on top of Anna. His flurry kept him from melting but he still cooled down the water quickly.

"Ah, cold, cold, cold, cold!" Anna yelped as she pushed her way past Olaf and out of the barrel.

"Well, that certainly looks like fun," Elsa said as she backed away from where the rough housing continued. Fitz turned and gave her a wolfish smile. "Now, now … you children can play until dinner, but I have …."

Fitz charged. Elsa scurried backwards like a surefooted snow-gazelle in heels, and let loose with a blast of magic.

"Oh … you ..." Fitz found herself frozen to the spot. "Now that's really unfair."

"All's fair in love and war," Elsa replied blowing Fitz a kiss. "Come on, Olaf," she beckoned the snowman after her.

"Are we gonna leave Fitz frozen like that?" Olaf asked as they started in through the doors. Anna followed behind wringing out her shirt.

"Hmmm," Elsa looked thoughtful. "You go inside with Anna, OK. I'll be right in."

Fitz was standing, still frozen in place, although her eyes managed to convey all the displeasure of crossed arms and a turned back.

"So, I hear love thaws," Elsa said as she got close to Fitz.

"Well if that's what you're waiting for, it could be a long night."

Elsa let out a peal of ringing laughter, "Oh, I do not believe that you're going to try that game with me, of all people. Particularly since  _you_  are the one needing thawing! Or are you really looking to spend the night in the courtyard?" Elsa raised her eyebrows and smirked.

"In that case," Fitz rolled her eyes. "All is forgiven. Please thaw me."

Elsa snapped her fingers and the frost embedded in Fitz's clothing and the ice around her boots disappeared. She stumbled forward a step, and Elsa caught her. "So speaking of ice and snow," Elsa said, once she was upright, "Olaf would like to you to meet Marshmallow. I thought we could all go to see him after you get cleaned up."

"Olaf asked?"

"Yes, it was his idea, not mine." Elsa smiled. "I think he's making an effort in the 'Fitz is special to Elsa' department."

Fitz nodded as she thought about that, "Well, then I guess I had better go, right?"

"Right," Elsa agreed. "I'll see about bringing something for dinner. And … ummm … you're going to want to dress warmly."

"Warmly," Fitz asked, "How warmly?"

"Very," Elsa answered. "Or least bring something warm for when you get up there. It's snow covered all year around, even without my help."

"Where exactly are we going?" Fitz asked.

Elsa took a breath, her smiled turned tight and tentative. "The North Mountain."

* * *

**A/N:** Yes this is extraordinarily short. But I decided to put the second half in the next story. I think it will fit better there since there is a distinct mood change.

SSN


	4. Chasing Angels: 1

**A/N:**  A change of tone in our Happily Ever After series.

* * *

**Chasing Angels**

"Chasing angels or fleeing demons, go to the mountains."  
 _(Jeffrey Rasley)_

Hair still wet, Carolina pulled on a clean shirt, a black stock lying out on the dresser. She was fastening the ties of her shirt around her wrists when she felt cool arms encircle her waist.

"May I help?" Elsa asked.

"Helping me put clothes on, now that would be a change," Carolina smirked.

Elsa replied lightly, "Really, is it always my fault?" Then she picked up the stock and frowned. "This is a little formal, how about ..." she edged herself closer to the drawer and neatly reorganized the neckware. "Here. I like this one better." Elsa held up a cream colored silk cravat.

"Of course, my queen," Carolina dipped her head in a slight bow, "your wish is my command."

"Mmmmm." Elsa turned her around so that they were facing and began to wrap the cravat. "You know I never understood that turn of phrase. Who exactly are you commanding? There are only two of us here, and I'm the one wishing, but it hardly seems to fit the meaning of the statement if you're commanding me … and then there is that you actually can't." She finished off with a lose knot.

Carolina tugged a bit at the intricate knot in her cravat. "How exotic, your Majesty."

"It suits you," Elsa said with wink. She moved out of the way as Carolina went to claim her coat. "So I was thinking perhaps we should invite Anna."

"On our trip to the North Mountain," Carolina tried unsuccessfully to keep the disappointment from her voice.

"Yes." Elsa wrinkled her nose, a sure sign that something was amiss. "And you're not happy about that?"

"It's fine," Carolina looked briefly in the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair. It seemed suitable enough. Then she looked up at the ceiling and sat on the bed. "No, actually," she corrected herself, "and I am being selfish, I know, but I have spent the entire day with your sister. And as charming and lovable as she is, I had hoped … I had hoped to spend the evening with you. And, of course with Olaf," she added as an afterthought. "If Anna is there … well, we'll talk, she'll talk and you'll listen like you always do ... and," she stood up and walked over to Elsa, "I want to get to know you better, too. I thought this could be an opportunity for us … for you, maybe to talk … about you?"

"You don't know me?" Elsa chuckled nervously, worrying her left hand with her right as she turned away from Carolina.

"In some ways, yes, I do ..." Carolina replied seriously, "and in some ways, no. You know far more about me than I do about you." Carolina rescued Elsa's hand and held it to her own chest, "It is up to you, your choice. But if you are asking me my preference, it would be for us to be alone …. excepting any snowmen that might join us."

Elsa pulled away from her and backed up toward the door, "I'm just not the tour guide my sister is. I am afraid it might be boring. And Anna will want to come. Really it's for the best."

The part about Anna wanting to come was probably the truth, Carolina knew that. But it still didn't sit well. Maybe she was being unreasonable, jealous even, but shouldn't she have the chance to spend time alone talking with the woman she wanted to be with? Shouldn't that woman want to spend time alone with her?

That's when she came to a rather sudden realization. They hadn't had an intimate conversation since she had agreed to stay in Arendelle. They had been intimate … and Carolina had no complaints there, but recently it seemed like having intimate relations had supplanted conversation. And they had never had a serious conversation about Elsa's powers. She really didn't even know what Elsa could do beyond a few snowflakes and some ice. Sure Hanson had told her that Elsa had wrecked the Vigilant, but that was hard to imagine … and Olaf? That was even harder to imagine. She looked up at Elsa and considered what to say, but she was already through the open door.

"I'll just go talk to Anna. Maybe she'll want to bring Kristoff."

Carolina nodded vaguely at Elsa's retreating form. She was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of going on this trip alone with her, and probably not because of fears that she would be a poor tour guide. But Carolina also knew that sex wasn't enough. If this relationship was going to be something ... something ... they would need to understand each other. They needed to actually talk, and not just about the easy things. Unfortunately her own experience with that concept was only theoretical. In her own life she had never been completely open with anyone. There was definitely some "blind leading the blind" here.

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"Oh, sorry little guy," Elsa apologized after she bumped into Olaf in her hurry to get out the door and down the stairs. She slowed down to a more sedate walk once she determined Fitz wasn't following her.

"So," the snowman asked brightly, following her, "where are we going?"

"We?" Elsa looked down in surprise. "I am going to ask Anna if she wants to come up to the North Mountain with us and perhaps bring Kristoff."

Olaf looked up at her, frowned and asked, "Why?"

"I thought she might enjoy it. She did last time."

"Yeah, so why are you bringing her this time?"

"Because ..." now it was Elsa's turn to frown. "I want to."

He stopped walking and blinked up at her with childlike innocence. "Why?"

"Because she's my sister."

"But why do you need her to go with you and Fitz? You told me that," the snowman looked positively puzzled, "that being with Fitz is different from being with Anna. If it's different, should your sister be there?"

"Olaf, are you trying to tell me something?" Elsa asked. She then continued suspiciously, "Did Fitz tell you to talk to me?"

Now Olaf looked confused, "No … I mean no to Fitz, and yes, because," he titled his head quizzically, "aren't you always trying to tell someone something when you talk to them?"

Elsa smiled at the snowman's literal wisdom, "I guess that's true."

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Olaf asked, clearly feeling this was a concept that needed to be explored from both sides.

Elsa thought for a long moment, then she led Olaf into one of the several parlors off the main hallway. She held the door open for the snowman and once he was inside she took a seat so they were at eye level. Finally she confessed, "the truth is that I'm a little frightened. I'm afraid that when she sees what my magic can do … it could be a problem … we could have problems. "

"Problems? Don't you love her? Oh wait … Anna said it's too soon."

"What?" Elsa's voice caught in surprise. "Anna's talking to you about my relationship with Fitz? Or are you talking about it with Anna?"

"Well I was talking to her how it was different between you and Fitz than with her. And that I was sorry that she couldn't sleep with you. And ..."

Elsa held up her hand. She'd heard quite enough already. And she found it very interesting that Anna thought she could decide when enough time had passed for declarations of love. "I think we've successfully passed the "true love" cooling off period," she muttered, deciding that a discussion with Anna about appropriate topics for Olaf might not be amiss. "But yes, Olaf. I think I might love her, so that makes me even more nervous."

"So … if you love her, don't you think she might love you?"

"Um ..." Elsa chewed her lower lip, "I hope so?"

"She gave up being a captain to be here."

"Yes."

"She gave up her family and her friends to be here."

"Yes," Elsa sighed.

"And the only reason I see for her to be here is you. I mean she's likes Anna … and Kristoff … and Sven … and me," he said the last with a little pleased shake of his head, "but …." and he dropped his voice in to a whisper, hiding his mouth behind his hand as if revealing a great secret, "I hear it's different."

"But that's part of the problem." Elsa saw Olaf was trying to figure that one out. "Not the different part," she explained, "the Fitz gave up so much part. She gave up her whole life. What did I give up?" Elsa shrugged in answer to her own question.

Olaf thought hard about this one, his eyebrows dipping into a deep furrow. "Well, maybe you could start by … by giving up being afraid?" He then looked at Elsa and nodded in happy affirmation.

It seemed to always come down to that, didn't it? Elsa thought. She had admitted to Olaf, she was afraid because she didn't know what she would do if Carolina couldn't accept who she was. And there was that nagging voice in the back of her head; a voice that sounded an awful lot like her lover right now, saying, 'To accept you, I have to know you.' Elsa sighed, her eyebrow raised, "Are you sure Fitz didn't talk to you?"

"She talks to me all the time," Olaf said earnestly. "Just this morning we talked about how interesting it is when the butter melts into the little cracks in the bread and then when you bite it, it drips out."

Elsa chuckled, "I see. " But it didn't really matter; she had her answer. She smiled as she stood up. "So who made you so smart, little guy?"

Olaf knew the answer to that question. "You did."

"Well in that case, I guess I just have to take your advice, right?" Her eyes lingered on him fondly, "Thank you, Olaf."

"Thanks for what?" Again he blinked his eyes innocently.

"Talking to me," she said. And then before he could launch into an explanation of how they often talked and what the subjects of their most recent conversations had been, she redirected him. "Let's go see about getting something for supper packed. It seems like the three of us are going to have quite an expedition."

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They had agreed to meet downstairs near the kitchens. Fitz had finally finished packing, and Elsa had looked over some last minute paperwork.

Elsa's was a little surprised when she saw the substantial bag Fitz was carrying. "That's … a lot."

"Be prepared. Motto of … well, I'm sure it's the motto of lots of groups of people."

"But what do you have in there?"

Fitz pulled the drawstring open at the end of the sea bag. A woolen blanket peeped out. "You said to pack warm things. I packed warm things." The bag clanked a little, like glass bottles hitting each other, when she put it down. "And some things to keep me … us warm."

At the "us" Elsa was reminded, "It's just us tonight … the three of us, and then Marshmallow when we get up there. I thought that … well, four seemed like enough don't you think?"

Fitz considered a smart retort, something that reminded Elsa that had been her idea in the first place, but then it occurred to her that rubbing it in was not going to make Elsa any less nervous and cranky or herself any happier when that happened, so she just smiled and agreed. "Yeah, that sounds great. Are we riding?" She felt unreasonably adult and mature.

But the nervous hitch returned to Elsa's voice as she explained, "If we walk it will take us most of the night, but we won't take the horses. I'm thinking a sleigh."

"Interesting. I suppose it's silly of me to note that sleighs usually require snow?" Fitz teased.

Elsa rolled her eyes in spite of herself, "That won't be a problem."

They picked up Olaf from the kitchens. Olaf was excitedly carrying the picnic hamper. Well, he was excited and carrying the hamper, which seemed to be the equivalent. He slid up and down the hall chattering a mile a minute.

"And you thought we needed Anna," Fitz said under her breath

Elsa ignored the comment and led the small party out into courtyard, and then out through a side gate to the fjord. Once there she took a breath, closed her eyes, and began to use her magic. Fitz felt the temperature drop. She saw blue sparks shoot from Elsa's hands, something that was more noticeable in the twilight. As they watched, a sleigh was built from the ground up. It had no reins, or horses, and Fitz idly wondered if horses would mind pulling something that was conjured out of thin air. But then it was done, and Elsa got in and gestured for them to follow her.

"We can cross the fjord here." She gestured to the water in front of them, looking around like someone was going to jump out from behind a rock and forcibly stop her.

Fitz nodded and threw her bag in the back. It settled in with a muffled clank.

Once Olaf was inside Elsa made a small pushing motion with her fingers and the sleigh took off. Fitz watched nervously as the sled runners touched the water. Swimming had not been part of her plan for tonight. But the fjord froze just under the sleigh, and they continued across it at a rather brisk speed.

When they reached the other bank, where a grassy meadow surrounded by trees led up the hillside, Elsa stopped the sleigh. She looked back at the fjord and the castle. Once she saw that all the ice had melted behind them she let out the breath that she had been holding, visibly relieved.

"Are you alright?" Fitz asked.

"I just wanted to make sure that I didn't freeze everything." Elsa replied, gesturing for the sleigh to go and starting their journey up the hill.

"Really? You were worried about freezing the harbor?"

"Yes, really." Elsa replied seriously. "I did it once. I froze everything. I could do it again."

"But your control," Something occurred to Fitz, "were you worried about freezing me in the courtyard?"

Elsa sighed and looked out at the quickly passing scenery. "I am getting more control, which also means I am getting more comfortable. So sometimes I just use magic now without really thinking about it … I mean, until just after I do it then … and it's a little late, I know...but then I start to worry."

"You hid it well," Fitz commented, "I never would have guessed this afternoon."

"Yes," Elsa replied after a moment, "I hide it well."

A tense silence settled until Olaf let out a whoop, and threw himself out of the front of the sleigh only to slide up the back. "Let's go to Elsa's Ice Palace," he crowed, and then continued leaping out and sliding back. They both had to laugh at that. Carolina leaned in closer and put her arm around Elsa. She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "You don't have to hide it with me, you know."

Elsa nodded, but didn't meet her eyes. In attempt to lighten the mood, Carolina continued, "Wow," taking some of Anna's jargon. "This really moves. How long will it take us to get there."

"Less than an hour," Elsa answered. "But it's not close."

"And you walked all the way up there in one night?"

Elsa's gaze flickered back to the swiftly moving landscape. "Yes. I was very upset. I'm not exactly sure how I did it. Well, I'm pretty sure there was magic involved, but the whole thing is a blur. I was just scared and running."

The sleigh picked up speed. Carolina hugged Elsa closer. She was shaking. "And you're scared now. I'm sorry. I'm an insensitive clod." She shook her head. "I should have realized that was the most frightening night of your life."

There was a moment of silence. "Not the most," Elsa said softly.

Carolina looked at her not sure exactly what she had heard.

"That was not the worst night of my life," Elsa repeated looking back at her. "The worst was when I almost killed Anna ... or maybe it was when I actually killed her."

"Oh," Carolina said quietly. "Yes." She gently pushed back a stray lock of hair that had fallen on Elsa's face and then ran her fingers across her cheek. "You were young."

"The first time," Elsa said, trying to keep a tight rein on her emotions. "I was eight."

Carolina closed her eyes. Eight. Suddenly she understood why Anna had been so upset when talking to her about this. "Do you want to tell me … Anna mentioned it, a little?"

"It would have to be a very little," Elsa said with just a touch of bitterness. "She doesn't really remember it. I mean the trolls took care of that. And I wasn't supposed to talk about it, or my magic, or …. well, anything."

"Yes, that was what she said."

Elsa shut her eyes and leaned her head back. She could feel Carolina's arm still close around her. "I suppose," she said haltingly, "I suppose you should know. It's where it all starts. It's why everything else happened. It's why Anna is the way she is … and it's why I'm the way I am."

Keeping her eyes closed Elsa told the story. Carolina was struck by the level of detail she included. She remembered everything. Their clothes, everything they did, the order they did it in, Anna tumbling to the ground, the pictures in the book, the way her parents had looked at Anna, the frightening silence of the ride, the trolls, what she had seen in the sky … everything as if she had just lived it yesterday. Carolina knew then this was a story Elsa had been telling herself for a very long time, reminding herself of the price for using her magic, memorizing guilt and shame until it became rote. And it still inflicted a heavy toll in emotional turmoil, for by the end of the story the sleigh was moving so fast everything outside was a blur.

"Elsa," Carolina said softly, gently rubbing Elsa's shoulder. "You should slow us down ... a little."

Elsa's eyes popped open and she looked around. Then she closed her left hand slowly into a fist; the sleigh slowed.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

"It's OK," Carolina said with a grin and a shrug,"I just didn't want our date to end too quickly."

Elsa looked distinctly torn between laughing and crying. "I wouldn't get hurt," she choked out. "My magic doesn't hurt me."

"And I'm too lucky to get hurt," Carolina whispered in her ear, "or too stupid. Didn't you tell me that?"

This time Elsa snorted in what was almost wry amusement, "I think I said lacking in good sense."

"Well that, too."

Carolina looked into Elsa's eyes. She desperately wanted to comfort the little girl in there, but she had no idea how to. She settled for hugging her close.

The sleigh stopped. They got out into the snow that always covered the top of the mountain. Carolina took her bag; Olaf grabbed the picnic hamper, and Elsa led them on a short path near a rock face. When they came out the other side the palace was visible, gleaming against the peak of the North Mountain.

"So," Elsa shrugged, nervously wringing her hands. "This is it. Um, Elsa's Ice Palace."

Carolina was struck speechless; she just looked up and stared. Finally she managed a little, "Oh."

"We can go in. I mean we should probably go in. It might be a little warmer, and I would like to show you … it."

"Oh. OK." This time Carolina nodded, her eyes still wide.

"We don't have to go in. I mean, if you don't want to."

"No," Carolina looked to Elsa and grabbed her arm. "We're going in. We are definitely going in."

"Alright," Elsa smiled.

Olaf leaped from behind them. "I've got the picnic basket. It's my second picnic of today," he announced happily. "Not that I eat, but still … two picnics in one day, that's pretty special." He twirled the hamper around him. "You guys don't mind if I take the tablecloth, do you?"

"No, that's fine, little guy," Elsa said as she started to the stair and waited for Carolina. Carolina moved still in a daze, her attention focused only on the structure in front of them. Then Elsa sent a blast of power at Carolina's boots. "Now you should be able to walk without slipping."

Carolina just nodded and started up the stairs if climbing on ice was something she did everyday. At the top the doors opened as soon as Elsa reached the entryway. They stepped inside.

Carolina looked around. The intricate frozen fountain, the delicate staircases that wound around equally delicate lattice works of sheer ice, the arches that supported a domed ceiling inlaid with an enormous snowflake, it was all truly awe inspiring. She reached out and touched Elsa, waiting until she turned. "Remember when you first showed me the castle, and I kept calling the rooms impressive?"

"Yes."

"I take it back, they really aren't impressive at all. This is." Her voice was hushed; she felt like she was in a cathedral.

"Thank you," Elsa said shyly. "But … there's something well, nicer … prettier anyway … or at least I think so."

"Prettier … than this?" Carolina asked. "Well then, you must show me, because right now I'm not sure I believe it."

Elsa nodded, still shy, and took her hand to lead her up to the top floor.

"Wait, wait …" Olaf ran into the room, the checked tablecloth like a cape around his neck. "Marshmallow's almost ..."

There was a ferocious roar. Fitz instinctively pushed Elsa behind her and drew her sword. A huge snow monster came bounding in through the front door. He charged at Fitz who braced herself for the onslaught. But Elsa stepped out from behind her, and the monster grabbed her up into his arms.

"Elsa!" he cried in what was a snow monster version of glee.

"Gentle, gentle," she cautioned him as she patted his cheek. Then they fell together in the larger, Elsa with her feet not on the ground, version of Olaf's warm hug.

Olaf tugged on Fitz's coat. "That's my little brother, that's Marshmallow."

"Little brother?" Fitz asked looking up at the huge snowman.

"I was born … errrr, made … first," Olaf said decisively. I'm oldest. He's my little brother."

"What ever you say, Olaf. What ever you, say," Fitz breathed, yet again amazed by what Elsa had created.


	5. Chasing Angels: 2

A/N: All fluff zero plot.

* * *

They had their picnic downstairs where Marshmallow fit more easily, even though he, like Olaf, didn't actually eat. They were dining in elegant style. Olaf had (reluctantly) given up his cape for the table cloth. In the hamper were candles, cutlery and even a bottle of wine to go with their supper of cold ham, cheese and bread. And Elsa was in fine form. Carolina noticed that she was much more free about using her magic here; at home she always glanced around before or sometimes after she performed her magic to see if it had been a mistake. Up here she just did it. Elsa had built a table and chairs for all of them, including one large enough for Marshmallow and one tall enough that Olaf sat at table height. She had made wine glasses, a vase and intricate ice flowers, ice swords, not sharp she assured Carolina, so that Olaf and Marshmallow might recreate Anna's sword lessons. She had even opened up a whole wall of the palace, thinning the glass down to a delicate sheer pane, so they might enjoy the view outside while they ate.

Carolina could see a rather dramatic difference in Elsa. In Arendelle, she was poised, reserved, careful. Rarely, sometimes after her second glass of wine, she would express herself exuberantly or candidly if it was just Anna and Carolina and Kristoff. The only other time Carolina had seen her this high-spirited was when she and Carolina were alone and the door was safely locked, but that disposition fell away as soon as the door was opened.

It wasn't that up here Elsa was anymore talkative, Olaf kept up the conversation for the most part, but she wasn't guarded, not once she had gotten over her initial bout of shyness. She smiled more. She laughed more. She used her hands dramatically when she spoke. She even walked differently … and it was a walk Carolina could get used to seeing. And when she kicked her feet up on a spontaneously created footstool, not caring that her dress fell away exposing a shocking length of leg, Carolina found herself desperately wishing that the cold didn't bother her either. She made a resolution to recreate this feeling down in Arendelle, if it was at all possible.

After dinner Olaf was going on about his current favorite topic, explaining his understanding of the different relationships Elsa had with various people in the castle, to his little brother. If Marshmallow cared or even understood that "Fitz was different," he didn't show it, but Elsa looked a little pained and buried her face in her hands.

"So, I take it the 'talk' with Olaf about our relationship didn't exactly clear the air," Carolina said quietly.

"I did the best I could. It's part an 'Elsa doesn't talk about that subject well with anyone' problem and part a vocabulary problem. It's hard to say that we are intimate if he doesn't know what intimate means."

"What does intimate mean?" Olaf asked brightly, snowman hearing apparently being better than they had planned on. "So … Fitz is intimate with Elsa?" He seemed to be trying out the words, no doubt to add them to his current dissertation on Elsa and other people.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" Elsa yelped. "You cannot say that to anyone."

Carolina started to choke as she tried to hold back her laughter.

"Why?" The snowman asked.

Carolina swore Elsa was about to say 'because I said so.' But instead she answered with, "You just can't. You just absolutely can't."

Olaf nodded. "So how about 'Elsa is ..."

"Not that either," Elsa replied fiercely.

Carolina exploded in a variety of undignified snorts and wheezes, until finally she could contain it no longer, and she burst out laughing, tears running down her cheeks. Elsa took one look at her and started laughing too. Soon they were clinging to each other trying to stay upright in their chairs. Every time one of them would start to slow down they would look at the other and the laughter would start full force again.

"This is all your fault," Carolina gasped. "You built him."

"Yes, but you attacked him in the bedroom," Elsa giggled back at her. "And you've been no help since."

Olaf stared at them, finally asking. "What is so funny?"

"Oh honey," Elsa reached over to Olaf as she calmed her breathing. "You just make us happy." She glanced up at Marshmallow who leaned his giant head down to her so she could pat it. "You too, big guy."

Then she stood up and gestured for Carolina to join her. Carolina grabbed her sea bag as she did so. "I'm going to show Fitz the rest of the palace. It might take a while. Are you two going to be alright down here?"

Marshmallow rumbled, "Yes. Play with big brother." In demonstration he swatted Olaf across the room. Olaf's head, flying by them, answered, "We'll be fiiiiiine."

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"Come on!" Elsa took Carolina's hand and led her quickly up the stairs. When they reached the top floor she was shepherded through a set of double doors that magically opened as they neared them. Elsa was practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "You have to see this; it's my favorite place."

Carolina found herself outside on a large balcony. From here she could both appreciate the size of the palace and the magnificent view down from the North Mountain.

"Ta da!" Elsa gestured dramatically at the scenery beyond the rail,"That's what I call a view."

"Not just the view," Carolina said, finding her tongue. "All of it. Everything here. It is all just …well magnificent, awe inspiring … and beautiful." She pulled Elsa into an embrace. "Thank you for showing it to me." Elsa relaxed into her and Carolina stroked her hair, looking out across the snow covered peak to the valley below. Then Carolina asked, truly curious, "How long did it take you to build this?"

Elsa tensed in her arms, and she could feel her heart speed up. "Not long," she said with a guilty smile, and the awkward silence came back.

Carolina moved a little bit away so she could see Elsa's face. "What's wrong? One minute you're perfectly fine, more than perfectly fine, and the next it's like you've done something horribly embarrassing. Am I making you feel like that? Should I not ask about ... about, your powers and things?"

"Oh," Elsa blushed as if she had been caught stealing chocolate. "Well..." she looked away uncomfortably.

"Exactly like that," Carolina said.

"It's just that I'm afraid you'll see all this, and Olaf, and Marshmallow, and the ice, and the snow, and freezing you, and you'll ask yourself what am I doing with her?" Elsa said in one long very rushed sentence that would have done Anna proud.

Carolina ran her hand down Elsa's arm, and shook her head. "Not a snowball's chance in hell."

"I understand that it's a lot to take in, and I just worry ..."

" _Elsa."_  Carolina gently brought the queen's head around so that they looked each other in the eyes. "Stop it. Please." She begged, breathing deeply, gathering her thoughts. "I can tell you're happy here, doing this; you look positively radiant, and if you don't know that just look into my eyes, because it's reflected there. This is ..." she gestured at the palace, "well, I have seen a lot, and some of what I have seen has been very beautiful, but I have never seen anything like this." Then she turned back to the woman in her arms. "And I have never seen you as beautiful or as," she struggled to find the words, "right with yourself … as you are here and now. I feel like I'm seeing a whole other half of you, and it's a half that is amazing, and I realize how much … well, I'm … I'm in …." it was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. It wasn't something she had ever said before, to anyone, and suddenly she was afraid this was the wrong time, that she would make a mess of things, that it was too soon. "I'm not going anywhere."

Elsa gently caressed Carolina's face, running her fingers through her hair. She whispered,"Thank you." Then, her eyes tearing, she pulled Carolina into a kiss.

When they finally broke the embrace Carolina said,"May I ask you something?" Her emotions were still churning, and she needed to find her footing amongst them. She had a plan for this evening, and she made a beeline back to it. The plan was safer than allowing her heart to take over her mouth again.

"Of course." Elsa felt like right now she would consent to anything, anything at all.

"Would you show me how you do it? Would you make … something big?"

"With my magic?"

Carolina nodded yes.

Elsa teased, "The sleigh wasn't impressive enough for you?"

"It was pretty impressive, but it wasn't this," Carolina gestured to the walls behind them.

"Well, I'm not sure the mountain needs another palace, but ..." Elsa looked around, weighing her options, planning. "Very well, stand right behind me. Don't move."

Carolina nestled up to Elsa's back and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Ready?" Elsa asked. Carolina nodded.

Elsa breathed in and brought her hands down and then up as if she were lifting something … and she was because the whole balcony began to move upwards. As the floor cleared one palace spire and then the next, she pushed out her hands, almost in a dance, sending supports and buttresses out to keep the whole structure stable. The floor lit up, no doubt as supports were reworked and reinforced below. The entire time Carolina could see the unfettered joy on her face, elation reflected in her eyes and in her smile. And when she stopped building, when the balcony was now the highest structure on the mountain, Elsa looked around at her work, happy, contented and relaxed.

"Oh my," Carolina said breathless with wonder, looking from Elsa's face to the scenery around them. "I think we need to do this more often."

"I'm not sure how practical that is," Elsa teased, "but I wouldn't object."

"We'll make it practical," Carolina vowed walking right up to railing, leaning over to see what she could of the structure below. Elsa followed, unsurprised by her fearlessness, and pointed back at the dim lights behind them. "You can see everything from up here. There's Arendelle."

"I bet this is even better at sunrise," Carolina said, looking from left to right, unsure what view to take in first.

"We can stay to find out." Elsa responded. "I think sunrise is in about two hours. The benefit of summer at this latitude."

"Let's stay, please," Carolina asked, her excitement mounting. "It's so beautiful up here." She moved quickly around the circumference of the balcony, as if she were afraid someone might snatch the view away if she stood still.

"I don't see why not," Elsa replied. "But please don't fall off."

"You would catch me!" Carolina pronounced, certainly.

"I would certainly try," Elsa replied. "But I would hate for that to be an unforeseen limitation of my powers." She reached out and trapped Carolina in her arms, pulling her close. "And besides, if you keep running, I can't get close to you."

"Hmmm," Carolina weighed more exploration of the balcony against cuddling. Elsa dropped her head and looked at her out of the top of her eyes, a playful warning. With an exaggerated sigh, Carolina dropped the sea bag and started rooting through it. "OK, together time it is," she said with mock resignation.

"You just don't really sit still well, do you?" Elsa chuckled as she watched the flurry of activity.

"No, I don't. It took you this long to notice?" Carolina pulled out a couple of woolen blankets that she placed on the floor of the balcony, then she pulled out a tiny oil burner. Elsa sat down, not needing the blankets, but on them anyway. Carolina plopped down next to her and began to set the burner up.

"What are you doing?" Elsa asked.

"A surprise."

"Just don't melt my palace."

Carolina stopped and looked at the small burner and then at the huge palace. "Madam, I think you have an exaggerated sense of my abilities."

"I think not," Elsa said. "You have a remarkable talent for melting things ..." Her smirk conveyed the rest of the sentence.

Carolina snorted and continued with her labors. She pulled out a small pan and a bottle of milk, setting the milk to heat on the burner. Then she pulled out the chocolate and a small packet of sugar.

Elsa laughed, "I didn't know you had culinary genius."

Carolina gave her a knowing look, "There are still a number of my talents you have not fully explored. A woman needs to keep herself mysterious, you know."

Elsa snickered, "If any of these talents involve chocolate, I demand you reveal them immediately."

Carolina looked up from where she was watching the milk so as not to let it boil, "Or what?" she asked.

"Or …." Elsa clearly thought of something, but then she blushed bright red, "Yes then, so you win this round. But trust me, I have a plan," she muttered.

Carolina kept her eyes on the task in front of her. She carefully thought through the steps the cook had drilled into her. Sure, it sounded easy, heat – milk – chocolate – sugar - but it turned out she had a remarkable ineptness with cooking of any sort. She breathed a sigh of relief when everything was together and not burned and in a ceramic mug, which she then handed to the queen.

"What are you going to drink?" Elsa asked.

"Oh, I brought my own provisions," Carolina said, reaching into her boot and pulling out a silver flask. She unscrewed the top and took a decent swallow. Then she reached over as if to pour some in the hot chocolate.

"No!" Elsa cradled her drink protectively. "You're not adulterating this ambrosia with that foul swill."

"This is not foul swill, it's Caribbean rum. Part of a very limited personal supply, I'll have you know." She poured a shot into the cap of the flask and handed that over to Elsa. "Try it."

Elsa sniffed at the drink and wrinkled her nose. She then brought it to her lips.

"In one, down the hatch," Carolina encouraged as she gently tipped the bottom of the improvised shot glass with her forefinger.

Elsa got it as far as into her mouth and then had to call on years and years of etiquette lessons, all of which instructed her that spitting something back on your host was impolite, no matter what you found out it was, and swallowed.

"Bracing," she gasped.

"You'll get used to it," Carolina chuckled, refilling the cap and handing it back to her.

Elsa set the rum down and took up the hot chocolate again. "I'll finish this while I still have a sense of taste, thank you very much."

Carolina surveyed the scene. She was back on track with her plan. Then she rubbed her hands together. "So … now that we're all comfy up here. I think we need to play a game."

"A game?"

"Yes. I'll trade you stories. One about me for one about you."

"Oh," Elsa responded, "oh … but really I don't have any interesting stories."

"I'll be the judge of that," Carolina said again. "That's why I'm picking the topics. You do have veto power. If I choose something too awkward, you just let me know and we'll move on." She looked into Elsa's eyes, "Is this acceptable to you?"

"I guess," Elsa said hesitantly, then she reached out and found the rum again.

"Great, you go first." Carolina enthused. "When did you first get your powers?"

Elsa's eyes shot open at the abrupt beginning of the 'game,' but then she nodded and took a small courage building sip from the cap. "Well, as far as I know, I have always had powers." Elsa began. "I can't remember being without them. However I understand my parents discovered I was different when I was a little baby, months old. I don't remember, obviously, but they did tell me the story."

She smiled, amused by her memory of the story as she started, "They told me I was small, and the doctor was concerned because my body temperature was low, and well you know here … babies die from the cold not infrequently. So there was a lot of wrapping in blankets, warm rooms with big fireplaces, swaddling, anything to bring my temperature up." She shook her head. "I don't like to be too hot now, and I can control it myself, so I can only imagine how uncomfortable, frustrated and not happy I was as a helpless baby. And of course the more unhappy I got, the more I cried, and the more I cried, the more they thought I was cold, and the more blankets … and well, this solution didn't work for anyone."

Carolina chuckled, "I can see that."

"One morning, after a rare peaceful night, my mother came in to get me up and feed me and there was frost on my crib. She panicked. Rooms were changed. Fires were rebuilt. Blankets were added. And I turned miserable again, wailing, and then suddenly I stopped crying. When my mother came back to my crib, there I was waving my little hands in the air, snow flakes falling on me, and I was cooing and laughing and happy as can be. And that's when my parents understood that they had more than your ordinary run of the mill princess on their hands. Well, it was the first inkling. No one believed it initially, not really, not until I started making it snow regularly … in the bath was apparently one of my favorites." With that Elsa drained her hot chocolate. She leaned back propping herself up with one arm, feeling warm and relaxed. "Is that what you had in mind?" she asked Carolina.

"Exactly," came the reply. "Now, you get to ask me a question."

"I can't think of anything. I wouldn't know where … ."

"Oh, you do. I see it in your eyes." Carolina leaned back and matched her pose. "It's the question that everyone wants to ask. 'What did it feel like when I found out the King was my father?'"

Elsa thought about it. It wasn't necessarily the most pressing question she had, but it was probably the one she could admit to the easiest. "Very well, tell me."

"So, let me set the scene." Carolina waved the flask in a dramatic gesture. "On Monday, I was the obstreperous daughter of a the long suffering widow Barnes. On Tuesday, my mother came back from a week-long trip away and told me that she wasn't a widow, my father was the King, and 'Oh by the way, you're going to the royal estate in Winchester to live with him for a while so he can get to know you." Then she wagged her finger in the air in a motherly gesture. "Mind you don't run into the Queen. She won't like you.'"

"My, that sounds ... abrupt."

"At the least," Carolina replied. "I was stunned. The earth turned upside down, and I was floating away into the sky. My mother's plan was that he would sponsor me as a Midshipman. I wanted to go to sea, and my mother had decided he owed me something even if he didn't owe her. But she didn't really share the plan with me, and I don't think she realized how her brash, fearless, noisy, brawler of a daughter might feel in a strange place, where she knew no one, and had to wear … a dress." Carolina made a pained face. "Really I blame my attire for the disaster that was my first meeting with the King. I guess my mother had told him that I was a lot like him or something … and indeed about some things I am. But I was so scared, and so uncomfortable in clothing that felt like I was wearing leg-irons, manacles and carrying a sack of sand on my back when I met him that first time, I couldn't even speak clearly. All I did was worry and think 'don't throw up and don't trip.' I know he thought I was a waste of time, another simpering useless girl that he was now shackled with feeding. He must have believed some of what my mother said; he didn't kick me out, but I was banished to a distant wing of the castle with a maid to take care of me." With that, Carolina took another drink, clearly finished with her story.

But Elsa was unsatisfied. "The story can't end there. You told me that your father was fond of you. Hell, Ledsham told me your father was fond of you although that wouldn't stop him from torturing you."

"That's quite possibly true." Carolina grumbled, shifting uncomfortably. "The King is fond of me, just not as fond as he is of himself. I have found his values to be … different, certainly than mine. Well, mine now, for a long time I did emulate him." She winced. "And you're right we did meet again and that meeting went much better … but that is another story." She topped off the cap in front of Elsa with rum and handed it again to her."It's your turn. Tell me about the first time you remember using your magic."

Elsa looked at the drink. "You do know I have to get us down, right?"

"I have the utmost faith in your abilities, besides it's nice up here. Now, your turn ..."

"Very well." She took the cap and downed in one gulp. That seemed to be getting easier to do. She wondered if that should bother her. "The first time I remember using my powers is when Anna was a baby. She was … horrible." Elsa rolled her eyes remembering and chuckled. "Now, I have to set this scene." She copied Carolina's grand gesture. "For months, Mama and Papa had been telling me how wonderful it was going to be to have a baby sister. I was going to be a big sister now, and that was a very important job. They would have to pay attention to the baby, but they stilled loved me just as much. And that the baby would love me because I would be such a great big sister." With that Elsa's expression changed to a scowl of mock horror. "Then Anna arrived."

"She was a dreadful baby. She cried, and cried, and cried, and cried. As much noise as she makes now, she is like a church mouse compared to her infancy. I remember thinking: 'This is not wonderful! How can something wonderful make my ears hurt and keep me up all night?' I had been expecting an adoring playmate, and here I was confronted with a useless noisy interloper who took all of my mother's time. I was very unsure if we should keep this particular baby, or if we needed to petition the stork for an exchange." Elsa nodded sternly, and for a moment Carolina could see a three-year-old Elsa with exactly the same expression.

"So one day I went alone into the nursery. I'm not sure that I wasn't supposed to be there, but the fact that I had to pull a chair over and stand on it to see into her crib makes me think it wasn't a planned visit." Elsa steepled her fingers, her tone still very serious. "And Anna was in there screaming … red faced and wrinkly, waving her arms, wailing, not at all meeting my standards for a baby sister. Then, and I'm not completely clear on my motivation, but I suspect  _I_  was bored …. I made her an icicle. I dropped it from my finger to her nose …" Elsa paused dramatically. "And she grabbed on to it … and she stopped crying … and she laughed! It was the best sound in the world. I was so proud that I had made her happy. That's when I decided that being a big sister really was wonderful." Elsa grinned and then added, "And Anna could stay."

Elsa glanced down at her left hand. "It was so easy to control then, probably because I couldn't do much, a little friendly snow, some ice here and there, but I wonder if it also was because I wasn't afraid at all, not of my powers. I loved them. Anna loved them, so I loved them. When you're that young things are so much simpler." She sighed. She looked over at Carolina and gave her a nudge. "Now your turn. I want the rest of the story."

Carolina launched into the tale of her days at the royal court in Winchester. Elsa laughed when she told her how she had traded one of the loathed dresses for a cast-off set of boys clothing from a kitchen scullion. Carolina described her days as an itinerant boy at the stables … working her way from odd jobs to a position on a royal boar hunt. And when she finished, when father and daughter were reintroduced to each other over the corpse of a particularly tenacious boar, Elsa found herself wondering if she had misjudged the King of Avalon. She noticed how Carolina's face lit up when she had recounted that part, and how she had ridden back to the castle in front of him on his horse, feeling very proud and loved. The glow of her happiness lasted only moments through, then she gave Elsa a very laden smirk, and added, "Of course then he turned out to be the ruthless asshole to end all ruthless assholes."

Elsa reached out across the small gulf of blanket that separated them and pulled Carolina over to her, wrapping her up in her arms. It was important to Elsa that this time she be the one to offer comfort, and given the way Carolina relaxed into her embrace it seemed it was a welcome effort. They stayed like that for quite a while, intertwined on top of the layers of wool, the rolled-up pack underneath Elsa's head, Carolina's nose pressed into her neck, her head on her shoulder. Elsa thought she must have drifted off to sleep at one point. Then, in the sudden way the sun rises when it does not have to clear the tree tops, a rosy light spilled all around them. Elsa blinked, eyes adjusting to the increasing light. She felt Carolina stir, and then sit up.

"It's sunrise," Carolina said, leaning over and giving the queen a gentle nudge. "You have to see this."

Elsa stretched lazily and then sat up as well. It was a remarkable sunrise. The warm light reflected off the ice around them, the palace a mirror of the pinks and oranges and yellows that made up the sky. They both stood and walked hand in hand over to the easternmost railing. Elsa had only once before see the sunrise from her palace, the morning after the night she had built it, and this time as before she was filled with a sense of hope, of freedom, and of limitless possibilities. However, unlike the previous sunrise, she wasn't alone. Carolina watched the sun, calming now from a fiery orange ball to the more subdued disk of pale yellow light.

"We are doing this again," she said to Elsa, squeezing her hand.

"Your wish is my command," the queen replied playfully and wrapped her arm around Carolina's back pulling her into a lingering kiss.


	6. The Manly Art of Hunting: 1

**The Manly Art of Hunting**

"Stop, please."

Elsa murmured into the sheet of paper she held in her hands, as she sat at the desk in the library. She had a stack of papers to review, another stack to respond to, and a third stack that required action on her part. The problem was none of the stacks were getting any smaller. She hadn't gotten any work done all morning. It was impossible for her to concentrate. And the reason she couldn't concentrate was …

Click, click, click … the sharp sounds of Fitzwilliam's boot heels sounded in the room. She had been pacing for the better part of an hour now, going from one window to the other. Originally the plan had been for her to read quietly in a comfortable chair while Elsa worked, but apparently sitting in a chair, no matter how comfortable, was something that eluded Fitz. She hadn't been reading for twenty minutes before she was up and pacing.

Click, click, click, click … pause. There was a shuffle as she made a quick turn. Click, click, click.

Really, Elsa blamed Anna. On any other day, right now Fitz would be training with Anna in the courtyard. But her sister, with a grace only she could muster, had taken a bad step the other day, fallen, and sprained her wrist. The physician had forbidden her to practice for at least a week.

"Please stop," Elsa asked. Fitz wasn't listening or was concentrating on something or both and didn't seem to hear her. The pacing continued.

Click, click, click ….

"Stop. Pacing." Elsa said tightly, her hand coming firmly down onto her desk where a small patch of ice appeared.

"What?" Fitz, pulled out of her musings, stopped short and looked over at Elsa. She seemed genuinely puzzled, as if she didn't fully understand the problem.

"Stop, just stop. Please stop. I can't work with you pacing back and forth like that. It's … intolerable."

Intolerable was never a good sign. "I'm sorry."

Elsa looked from her stacks of work to Fitz and back again. "You know. I'm not sure this was my best plan. I think that maybe you need to go do something … someplace else."

"Oh?"

"Anything … you need to do something, anything but not here." She got up, grabbed Fitz by the arm and began to lead her from the room. "It's a big castle. I am sure you can find things to do." Elsa seized on the first thing she thought of as a suggestion. "Riding."

"You want me to ride in the castle?" Fitz smirked in an attempt to be charming.

Elsa pushed her toward the door. "I hear you can take a bicycle down the stairs if you're careful."

"I'm not sure ..." Fitz tried to turn around, but she was held fast and firmly. Frustration seemed to have strengthened the Queen's grip and well as her resolve.

"Go talk to a painting. Climb on the roof. Try on the armor downstairs. Anything you want, but whatever you do, you can't do it here." And with that she pushed Fitz out the door and shut it behind her.

Elsa walked back to her desk, sat down, and breathed in the silence. Her nerves settled; her head cleared. Now – now she could get some work done.

Several hours later

"Ahem."

Elsa looked up from reading a rather dense proposal on salmon hatcheries when she heard someone clearing their throat.

"Your Majesty," Kai began. Behind him was the entire staff of the castle, the cooks, the gardeners, the grooms, maids and footmen, and the Captain of the Guard.

"Is there a problem?" she asked hesitantly.

"Well, your Majesty," Kai began again. "It's the Lady Fitzwilliam."

Elsa blinked. That was a rather formal title. She didn't think Kai's use of it boded well.

"You see ..."

"It's intolerable!" The head groom interrupted. "She won't leave me alone. She keeps asking if she can help. If I wanted someone who didn't know the business end of a pitch fork, I would have hired one from the village, not some blue-blood from damned Avalon."

His outburst started everyone yelling at once. The cooks wanted her out of the kitchen. The gardeners wanted her out of the garden. Even the guards complained that someone was going to get hurt if she kept swinging a pike around like that.

"Alright ..." Elsa said, considering her options, but she couldn't be heard over the din in the room as the complaints about Fitzwilliam reached a fevered pitch.

Kai brought everyone to order again, with a loud, "Excuse me!"

"Alright," Elsa repeated. "I'll speak to her." The problem was she had no idea what she was going to say. It wasn't like she could censure Fitz for … essentially being Fitz. Asking her to stop doing things was a like asking the sun not to rise or a fish to climb a tree. It was possible to ask, but you were unlikely to be successful.

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"Anna, I just don't know what to do." Elsa had pulled her sister into the parlor for an impromptu tea. Tea was safe; Fitz would rather be keel hauled that attend a tea. That left Elsa alone to enlist Anna in the plan to "find Fitz something to do."

"Nuthin' fom da Admalty, huh?" Anna wasn't a big tea goer either, but there had been the promise of krumbkake, one of which she was now talking around.

"Please, Anna finish before you speak," Elsa said, and then winced as she realized now she was starting to sound like her mother. But really, was she the only civilized person in this castle?

Anna swallowed and reached for another pastry. "Nothing from the Admiralty?"

"No," the Queen grumbled, "and I've half a mind to go down there and let them know they need to process her application before there is a castle-staff led revolution in Arendelle. But I promised her I wouldn't say anything."

"I'm sorry I can't help," Anna looked at her bandaged arm. "Stupid wrist."

"I know, but we have to find something for her to do."

"We? How we?" Anna smirked, "I think this is a 'you' problem."

Elsa fixed her sister with a withering look. "Anna, if the cook kills me because she's been interrupted in the kitchen one too many times, then you're Queen."

That wiped the smirk right off Anna's face. "OK," Anna clapped her hands together, making a face when her wrist twinged. "What are WE going to do then."

"I was thinking something outdoorsy," Elsa began explaining the bare inkling of a plan that had come to her. She was counting on her sister, who had much more experience with the actual outdoors than she did, to help her fill it in. "Something far away from here, I mean not in another country far, but something that would take more than a couple of hours. Maybe a couple … three or four … days?"

Anna pondered the options. "OK, but she doesn't know much about Arendelle. I'm not sure she would have any clue what to do or where to go to do it."

"Which is why we need to provide the idea … or provide the someone who can provide the idea."

"Yeah, but who do we know …."

Their heads swung toward each other in perfect synchronization. "Kristoff!" They exclaimed at the same time.

Anna jumped right in. "Kristoff could take her … not ice harvesting, he doesn't like amateurs along when he does that," which was something Anna knew from painful experience. "But hunting or fishing."

"That's right, he goes hunting." Elsa's eyes lit up. She chortled in joy and hugged her sister, positively giddy at the idea of Fitz on a lengthy hunting expedition. "And I know Fitz hunts, she's talked about it." Elsa looked at Anna, "Would you ask Kristoff to take her hunting?"

"Me? He doesn't listen to me," Anna scoffed, trying to make it seem like it was an influence problem and not a 'Kristoff really doesn't like a whole lot of people hanging out with him, and you know Fitz, this could really backfire, and when it does I don't want to be the one responsible' problem. "You're the Queen; you go ask him. He'll listen to you."

"Fine," Elsa sighed.

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"Kristoff, please, you would be doing me a favor."

Kristoff tilted his head as he looked at the Queen, and squinted, hoping that perhaps he had just not heard her properly."Let me get this straight. You want me to take Fitz hunting …."

"Yes," the Queen answered before he could delve into her motives.

He frowned and shuffled his feet. "Is this an … order, Your Majesty?"

"No, of course not," Elsa replied, managing to sound both hurt and a bit imperious at the same time. "I don't go around ordering people ... to do things like this."

"Yeah, um, so then …." Kristoff scratched the back of his head and looked everywhere but at Elsa. She had said it wasn't an order. He would take her at her word. "You know I'm really busy right now. Ice stuff. And I'm just not sure that it's a good time. Or a great idea." He shrugged apologetically. "So no?"

Did he just brush her off? Now, Elsa wondered if it was too late to make it an order. Then it occurred to her that Kristoff's interests were aligned with Anna's. "It's not an order, but as I said, it is a favor. The kind of favor an older sister who is in charge of her younger sister until she is twenty-one might ask. A sister who may or may not listen to her advisers who are strongly recommending that said younger sister be limited in her ability to 'wander around and get into trouble.'" Elsa added the quotation marks with her fingers.

Sven grunted. Kristoff tried to affect a casual tone as he studied his fingernails and said,"Limited?"

"A curfew. Locked doors. Assigning a guard when she's out of my sight. A chaperone, perhaps. There are any number of limiting measures that have been brought to my attention."

Sven brayed a warning to his buddy.

"Since you put it that way," Kristoff shot a look at Sven, "I can take her tomorrow, but only for a couple of days."

"Five days." Suddenly the Queen felt more confident. Negotiating, even with stubborn parties, was something she understood and had become proficient at.

"Three days."

"At least four, I want to make sure she gets the chance to experience the beautiful Arendelle countryside properly." She used her 'final offer' voice and added a touch of queenly glare.

Kristoff knew when he was beat. "OK, four days. Is she any good with a bow?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure you can ask her," Elsa replied happily. "When the two of you are making your plans."

"Right, sure." Kristoff nodded at the queen in resignation as she swept out of the stable, her step much lighter than when she arrived.

Kristoff wasn't feeling the same joy, however. It wasn't that he didn't like Fitzwilliam. She was reasonably likable. She seemed a decent sort, well, once he'd determined that she didn't have her eyes on Anna, she'd seemed decent. But his time away from civilization had become precious to him, and now that he found himself spending more and more time here at the castle, living at the castle, one important part of that time away was his solitude. He liked being alone. He had grown up with trolls, and he had also spent much of the rest of his time on the ice in the company of other solitary men. He found people … loud … and unhelpful, if not outright dishonest … and much more difficult to deal with than reindeer. And Fitzwilliam, she wasn't particularly solitary or quiet. She was always sort of there, bigger than life, right in front of you where you couldn't ignore her, taking up a lot of space and a fair amount of the air in the room. Four days suddenly seemed like a long time."

"So Sven, it looks like a hunting trip in the next couple of days." Sven grunted in reply. Kristoff continuing, "Yes, it will be interesting." Sven stomped and made other reindeer noises. Kristoff replied, "No, I don't think I could have held out for more carrots in trade for taking her."

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The answer was Fitz was not an accomplished bow hunter, but she managed to find a very nice cavalry rifle in the armory. She was familiar with the weapon and knew it would make short work of either a stag or a wolf. She had been in the process of cleaning it and restocking the patch box when Kristoff found her.

"What's that?" he asked looking at the rifle.

"My weapon of choice," she said patting the stock fondly. She pulled it up and sighted down the barrel. It felt good in her hands. "So, what are we hunting? Stag, boar … wolf? I know you have a wolf problem here."

"Ummm, no. I was thinking more like a rabbit. Grouse. Maybe a duck?" Kristoff was staring at the rifle.

"A duck?" Fitz chuckled, "Stalking the wild duck? Bravely following it back to its lair?"

"Yeah, because it's just the three of us, and if we run into a pack of wolves …. we run."

"Just the three of us?" Fitz had already gathered it would not be a typical hunting party of her experience where the servants always greatly outnumbered the hunters. "You, me and … the Shooting Captain? Hound Master?"

"Sven!" Kristof answered indignantly. How could she forget Sven?

"Oh yes, Sven." Fitz looked over at the reindeer. She whispered to Kristoff only partially in jest, "You're not worried we might end up bagging a brother or a cousin of his or something?"

Sven gave Fitzwilliam a look that told Kristoff he'd better be sure to stay between Fitz and Sven when they were near any cliffs or crevices. Elsa had made it pretty clear she wanted her Fitz back.

"The answer is 'no,' because I don't hunt reindeer, which means," Kristoff plucked the rifle from her hands, "You're not going to either."

"Wait, what are you doing with my …"

"If you shoot a rabbit with this, there won't be enough of it left to skin."

Fitz frowned. It was annoying, but Kristoff was right.

"I'm pretty sure I saw a shotgun around here somewhere; we can load it with small shot. Less chance of missing, much less chance of ripping whatever you're shooting at into a million pieces."

"A shotgun ..." Fitz scowled. "That's hardly sporting."

"This is not about sporting," Kristoff said firmly. "It's about eating. It's about hunting to eat what you kill."

"Alright, alright," Fitz held up her hands in surrender, although she did think it was a little false of him to put it that way. It wasn't like they had to hunt to eat. They weren't marooned on an uncharted continent. They were in a castle. With kitchens. And cooks. Cooks who could make rather tasty sandwiches if they wanted to bring something with them … just in case.

Then she remembered her last exchange with the cook. A chef's knife waving under her nose as she was being summarily ejected from the kitchen. Suddenly Kristoff's plan acquired more merit. She decided it was better … safer really … to dine on rabbit … or duck …. or Kristoff's hat, if it came to that, then ask for anything from the kitchen right now. And she would bring libations, enough rum could make anything edible.

* * *

**A/N:** More to come, I promise.


	7. The Manly Art of Hunting: 2

It quickly became clear that Kristoff's philosophy of hunting and Fitz's were diametrically opposed, except perhaps from the game's point of view. Fitz was still smarting a bit from the discussion about the gun and her mood wasn't improved by Kristoff's comments on her attire ("Who wears a white shirt and a red coat to hunt?") and her general lack of preparedness. Kristoff was getting annoyed at her endless questions ("Why can't we ride? Is Sven the jealous sort?") and her far too carefree approach to what he considered a survival skill.

So far they had both managed to be civil. So far they had also both managed to be completely convinced they were in the right. It was unlikely that these two mutually exclusive states could continue forever. And right now it was civility that was being tested.

"Craaaaack!" The twig broke when Fitz moved her foot trying to relieve the growing numbness in her leg.

"Sssssssh," Kristoff glared at her.

Fitzwilliam had tried not to move, but they had been crouched here behind this damned bush for what she was sure was hours. The sun was beating down on them mercilessly, and even though her coat was in the custody of Sven, she was far hotter than she wished to be. This was not, she thought grimly, hunting. This was more like reading in the damn library, just crouched uncomfortably, with a gun in your hand … and possibly more boring. The sort of hunting she enjoyed had beaters to drive the game, dogs to chase it, and horses to ride to catch up to it. There was moving, riding and even running once you had abandoned your horse with a groom to mind it.

At the very least, even if one was going after stag in the highlands where it was difficult to ride, there was stalking. This wasn't stalking. This was waiting. She hated waiting.

She felt rather than heard Kristoff move. He focused his eyes on what looked for all the world like a tuft of grass. Then, his arrow nocked and ready, he carefully pulled it back on his bow and let fly. The arrow flew toward the tuft of grass, and the silence was broken by a squeal. Kristoff ran over to where the wounded rabbit lay, the arrow protruding from it, and quickly broke its neck.

"That's my dinner," he said, putting the rabbit in his game bag. "Now you just have to get yours."

Fitz sighed. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that this would mean more crouching behind the damned bush. Perhaps she shouldn't have made quite as much fun of stalking the wild duck … although she had no desire to pluck feathers either. She'd had quite enough of that when she was young, plucking the chickens her mother raised.

"Right so … what? Don't tell me we're waiting here until the next rabbit comes by."

"This is a good spot for them," Kristoff explained.

Fitz gritted her teeth and stretched. "I'll blame you when I'm hungry tonight," she grumbled. "You know when you shoot a deer, there's enough for two."

Kristoff was tired of hearing about the superiority of hunting larger game. "Sure there's more than enough, but it's wasteful. It's summer; the meat won't keep."

"So we shoot the deer, clean it, head back … I'm sure the cook can sort out venison for dinner." Fitz again wondered if Kristoff had forgotten they actually had a home to go back to. They weren't trapped in the wilderness surviving on their wits after all.

"Yeah, but we can't go back yet." Kristoff answered without thinking, for if he had been thinking he could have anticipated the question that followed.

"What do you mean we can't go back yet?"

"Uh," Kristoff lied badly, fumbling his way through his explanation. "It's just too soon. You won't get to appreciate the ummm the beautiful ummm Arendelle countryside."

Fitz did a double take, squinting to make sure she was still taking to Kristoff. "Pardon me?" she asked incredulously. "Did you actually just say 'beautiful Arendelle countryside? I cannot imagine a more unlikely phrase coming from your mouth." She took a step closer to him,"And what do you mean we can't go back."

Kristoff decided that he hadn't promised to keep the reason for the trip a secret. He knew it was intended that way, but he took no responsibility for relationship fallout that happened with a plan that had depended on his participation willing or not.

"I promised I'd keep you out at least four days."

"Promised," Fitz considered the word. "Promised? Why?" Then a more pressing question occurred to her. "Promised whom?"

"Ummm," Kristoff looked up at the sky and shrugged. "Elsa."

"Really?" Fitz seemed unbelieving at first. But Kristoff nodded. "Really." she repeated this time to herself. Then she started to pace. And exclaim. "You're my nanny? What, I need something to keep me busy? Something to keep me from being underfoot?" She turned on Kristoff, jabbing her finger in his chest, "And whose damn Navy is it what won't give me the time of day? It's not like I kept this a secret. I said I didn't do idle well. 'Oh, don't worry,' she says." She poked Kristoff with every statement, and her voice grew louder with every poke. "Well, I see there's worrying. Just without me. Maybe I need to take myself back so we can discuss this. Loudly. Lengthily. Taking lots and lots of time … loudly."

At the last shouted word, a rabbit, terrified by Fitz's rant even if Kristoff just looked at her with an exasperated grimace, ran out from the brush. Fitz saw it from the corner of her eye and swung around bringing the shotgun up as she did so. She fired. The rabbit fell. Then she turned back to Kristoff without so much as taking an extra breath. "And you weren't going to say a damned thing about this?" she bellowed.

"Didn't think it was necessarily my place to … look, she meant well," Kristoff said in a placating tone. "And you got the rabbit," he added brightly, trying to distract Fitz.

"Meant well!"

Kristoff grabbed her hand before there could be more poking. "You got the rabbit."

"I'm not talking about the rabbit!"

Kristoff continued calmly. "Yeah, but I'm telling you it's probably a better idea. Let's deal with the rabbits. The rest will … work itself out, I' m sure. Do you really want to storm back into the castle and have a fight about a hunting trip? Besides, that was pretty good shooting. Maybe I'd like to see some more of that."

Fitz wasn't sure she believed him, either about things working themselves out or about her shooting.

Kristoff continued, "She's gonna miss you. I guarantee, four days, that's three nights … you'll be missed."

This Fitz believed, she thought confidently, of course she'd be missed. But she also knew she was being talked down. Briefly she considered it a diabolical Arendellian plot, all of the kingdom scheming together to turn her into a quiet, book reading, bush hiding in sort of person, at the behest of a quiet, book reading, sitting in the garden for hours just thinking sort of Queen … but she rejected that. Kristoff didn't get along with enough people in Arendelle to be part of a plot.

She gave him a sour look. "Let's go get the damn rabbit."

Kristoff headed out to where the rabbit fell. Fitz started off after him, pausing only to turn back in the general direction of the city and the castle and shake her fist in defiance. "This doesn't mean I have forgiven anyone. Anyone!"

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"Sure you don't want any help with that?" Kristoff asked.

"No!" Fitz snapped, grunting as she tried to "ease" the skin over the rabbit's shoulders. She felt it rip … again … briefly considered testing how far a partially skinned rabbit could fly … and then picked up her knife from where she had thrown it earlier. She heard something that definitely sounded like a reindeer laughing. She shot a glare at Sven. Flying reindeer, now that was also a thought.

There was no question, her rabbit was a mess. Kristoff stood next to her, his rabbit carcass neatly and efficiently skinned, cleaned, and rolled up in his bag. Fitz's rabbit looked more like a tragic victim found by the roadside after being beaten to death by highwaymen. Truth was she had never actually skinned anything before. When she had lived with her mother in the small village she had called home for the first eleven years of her life, they had been too poor to hunt anything. There wasn't money for a good knife let alone a gun. Later in life, when she had hunted with her father, they had servants who skinned what they killed. And, as she had refrained from reminding Kristoff, rabbit fur was a lot more delicate than deer hide or a wolf pelt.

"I just thought, maybe two hands would make it … go quicker?" Fitz pinked at Kristoff's understatement. "I'm not sure which is bloodier, you or the rabbit." He leaned over and pointed out a bit of fur on the rabbit's back. "And you missed a spot there."

"I'm not finished," Fitz said tightly.

"Well, hurry up. It will be dark soon, and I want to make camp while it's still daylight, and far away from where we cleaned the game. That," he pointed over to the offal on the ground, "will attract predators."

"Wouldn't be such a problem if we'd brought the rifle now, would it?" Fitz muttered under her breath. She swiped at the tuft of fur with her knife and then cut down the mutilated carcass. She brought it over to where Kristoff had made a makeshift table on a fallen tree and laid it out to gut it.

"Careful, careful!" Kristoff exclaimed holding back her knife hand. "You don't want to cut the wrong thing down there. Trust me." Sven had ambled over from his spot in the grass and concurred with a throaty snuffle. Fitz humphed in frustration, her shoulders tightening in embarrassment.

"Here. Like this … gently." He guided her hand in a shallow cut across the rabbit's belly. "You know, Elsa said you were an experienced hunter," he added a little apologetically. He wouldn't have dragged Fitz out here if he had realized she wasn't comfortable with this. Maybe Elsa should have considered shopping in the village, or something else equally genteel that gentlemen … well gentlemanly ladies … from Avalon enjoyed. And that would have left him off the hook, too.

"I am. I'm considered quite good," she replied with a huff. "I've just never done … this part." Then following his example from earlier she shoved her hands in the rabbit's body cavity and began removing the entrails.

"Oh, yeah." Kristoff rolled his eyes. "Aristocracy."

"I am not ..." she pulled the rabbit guts out, and the liver plopped onto her breeches leaving a dark stain on the buckskin. "Bloody hell … these are ruined."

Even Sven cackled at that. Fitz turned and mouthed "wolf bait" over her shoulder at him. There was a bellow, and suddenly Kristoff found himself standing between an irate reindeer and an irate woman waving a knife. A knife with a three-inch blade, but still ….

"Everyone calm down," he said sharply. Then he gestured at Fitz's rabbit. "There's a stream to wash that off in near camp."

"Fine," she said picking it up and stuffing it in her game bag. Then she stalked over to Sven and snatched her coat from where it was rolled up in the saddle bag. "Keep it up," she said under her breath to him, "and we will have words." Then she realized that she was talking to a reindeer. First snowmen. Now a reindeer. What was this kingdom doing to her? Muttering 'Arendellian Plots!' under her breath, she headed off after Kristoff.

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It was only a couple of hours later that they found themselves sitting around a fire, the temperature having dropped once the sun set, with their roasted rabbits skewered on sticks as their dinner.

"Ah! Bloody hell!" Fitz spat another shot pellet out on the ground.

"Yeah, that's the problem with a shotgun." Kristoff waved a choice tidbit of rabbit at her as he spoke. They were both quite hungry, and Kristoff was devouring his dinner, not having to worry about shot lurking in the meat. Fitz was eating rather more gingerly, spitting out shot as she went. She grumbled something profane about shotguns, and then she stuck her hand in her large coat pocked and then pulled out a napkin.

"What's that?" Kristoff watched as she pulled something out of the napkin. She gave it a look and a sniff, and then she tossed it over the fire to him.

"Bread from this morning, I grabbed what was left on the table. You know, in case we weren't successful." She pulled out another roll for herself from the linen and smiled. "It's not hardly stale at all." Certainly she had eaten much much worse.

Kristoff looked at the roll in his hand. It was crushed, having spent the day in the coat on Sven's back, but it looked like a welcome addition to dinner. A moment of guilt flitted through him, and then he pulled off a leg from his rabbit and offered it back to Fitz. "This won't have any shot in it."

Fitz looked at the offering carefully and then nodded. "Thanks." She made short work of it, and it took the edge off her hunger. Then she reached inside her boot and pulled out her flask. One act of generosity deserved another. "Here," she wiggled the flash in Kristoff's direction.

Kristoff took the flask. He pulled pulled the stopper out and then sniffed. "What is it?"

"Rum, or what passes for rum in this god forsaken Kingdom. I don't know where it comes from, but it's not from any place that actually makes rum. Still it's better than a sharp stick in the eye," she chuckled.

Kristoff took a swig. "Not too bad." He tried it again. "Not exactly smooth, though." He passed the flask back and then got his pack from Sven. The reindeer was settled in near the fire with his own bags of feed and water. Fitz had fed him some "make up" carrots, and he had accepted her apology with loud munching noises.

From his pack Kristoff pulled out his own bottle. It was clear glass and inside was a pale green liquid. He passed it to Fitz. "Try this."

She unstoppered the bottle and took a long pull. The first taste was almost cool, like a mint tea, but as she swallowed it started a burn unlike anything she'd ever had before. The burn grew until her whole body tingled. Her eyes shot wide open. She let out a little gasp. "What IS this?"

"That's … well, I call it troll juice. My family … the trolls … make it. I'm not sure what's in it, but it'll keep you warm on the ice that's for sure."

"Smooth," Fitz said appreciatively, "but with a little kick there in the end."

Kristoff grinned. Fitz was a hoot. 'Little' kick ... sure. "The other guys seem to like it. I thought you might."

They sat in companionable silence trading the flasks, the rabbit, and the rolls back and forth until they were full. Then they just continued with the flasks. Fitz let the warmth of the rum and the troll juice flow through her. She looked up at the stars. There were so many of them out here. The stars shone bright in the sky above a ship in the middle of the sea, but here, above the haze, they were diamond sharp.

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"It's been a while since it's been just the two of us," Elsa said. She and Anna were having a quiet dinner. Since they were alone they were sitting across from each other at one end of the table.

"Not since Kristoff decided you weren't going to freeze him into a statue, and it was safe to be in the same room with you."

Elsa shook her head in disbelief. "I really never understood why I made him so nervous."

"Elsa, have you met you?" Anna answered. "You are a little intimidating, I mean and also … the Queen."

Elsa sat up fully erect and sent her piercing, 'I am the Queen' look at Anna. "I am NOT intimidating," she said in her most commanding tone. Then they both dissolved into giggles, Elsa hiding hers behind her hand, Anna trying not to spew her mouthful of soup across the table.

"You can't do that while I'm eating," Anna said with a cough. Then she added, "You know it is kinda nice when it's just us."

"Do I have to add you to the list of people who think 'Fitz needs to spend more time away'?" Elsa sighed.

"Oh no, no." Anna waved her hands and almost knocked over the wine bottle. Elsa rescued it, and moved it closer to her. "I love it that she's here. She's fun. And you're so cute when you're with her."

Elsa looked up from refilling her glass."Cute?" She said indignantly. "I am not cute. Remember I'm the intimidating person in the room."

"First, they're not mutually exclusive. Second, no, with Fitz you're just cute."

"She is rather difficult to intimidate," Elsa huffed, thinking of the first time they met. Fitz an implacable wall of … Fitz … nonplussed only by the suggestion that they dance.

"Yet surprisingly easy to annoy," Anna added with a grin.

"That's just because you're so annoying." Elsa teased.

"Little sisters are supposed to be."

"And to think, I was afraid I had missed out on all that."

"You know," Anna said bring the conversation back to Fitz, "she's sort of the anti-Kristoff. He gets intimidated around here, but he's almost impossible to annoy. I mean, he pretends like he's annoyed, but really underneath it all he's just a big old patient sweetie."

"He'd have to be."

"Hey!" Anna pouted.

"Hmm, the 'anti-Kristoff'," Elsa considered this. "They are pretty much opposites."

"Do you think they're getting along?" Anna asked with a hint of concern.

"I hope so," Elsa answered. "I mean they have weapons. If they're not one of us is going to be pretty distraught."

Anna wondered how her regal, shy, introverted sister had suddenly turned into the world's worst tease. "Really Elsa, I think both of us would be distraught, don't you?" Anna had a sudden alarming though. "Fitz didn't take her sword did she?"

"No. I was going to make sure of that. But I didn't have to as it seems swords are not part of proper hunting attire, even though they seem to be part of every other attire." Elsa sighed, remembering Fitz's impromptu lecture. "Apparently Avalon has this entire complex etiquette involving swords, and heaven help me, fans."

"I'm not worried about Fitz beating Kristoff to death with a fan."

"My understanding is that in our relationship, I am the fan wielder." Elsa's face clearly showed her lack of appreciation for fans. "But I doubt it will come to that, not with a fan or a sword." Elsa sighed again. "But something did occur to me."

"She has another weapon?"

"No," Elsa scoffed. "I am just a little concerned about their topics of conversation."

"What do you mean?"

"Anna, what is the only thing they have in common?"

"Ummm? I don't know? They both wear pants?"

Elsa rolled her eyes and sighed. "What have we been talking about?"

"Uh … them. So …. oh. Oh!" Anna's eyes widened as she realized what Elsa was driving at.

"Yes. Us."

"Us. Well, that's not too bad … I mean what could they … and … you don't think they'd talk about us ... like ... oh no!" Anna turned pale. "I mean, not that I have anything to worry about … like that … anyway."

"You'd better not," Elsa said looking hard at her younger sister, who promptly blushed. "Anna!"

"We're careful."

"Do I have to have a seriously intimidating conversation with Kristoff?"

"No!" Anna yelped.

"And, why not? He's clearly not getting the point about what the next  _proper_  step is. Perhaps because someone," Elsa leaned forward to emphasize who she thought the responsible someone was, "has not made it plain to him what the next proper step is."

"I think he … I think he knows. I think he wants to. I just don't want to push him."

"It's been a year, Anna. And if you're …you're ..." she couldn't bring herself to actually say the words. "It's time."

"I know, Elsa. And he will."

"Anna." Elsa schooled her face to a serious look. "If Papa were alive, Kristoff would have proposed by now, or you would be locked in your room. In fact he  **would**  have proposed by now, and you still would be locked in your room until you were married."

Anna wondered briefly how Elsa was so sure of that, but this didn't seem the time to ask. "Alright. I'll talk to him, when they get back." Anna reached out and took Elsa's hand. "I can be responsible. You don't have to worry about me."

"I'm always going to worry about you. It's my job. You're my sister, and I love you."

"That's my line." Anna gave her a quick smile, and then they both fell into silence.

Finally Elsa asked,"How about dessert?" This was usually the high point of Anna's mealtimes, and Elsa wanted to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Elsa, you think they're going to get along, right?"

"Of course, I do. They're both reasonable people."

"And you don't think they're talking about us. Not just talking … but  **talking**  … you know."

"Of course not." Elsa said firmly. "Fitz isn't just reasonable, she has a good sense of self-preservation. And if she did that … she knows I'd kill her."

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Fitz sat up and looked across the fire at Kristoff and asked. "So, when are you going to marry Anna?"

Kristoff was taking another swig of rum when Fitz said this. He choked and sputtered "What?" Where did THAT question come from?

Fitz repeated, perhaps a little more slowly than she needed to, "Marry. Anna. When are you going to marry Anna?"

"What? Why? I don't know. Why are you asking me?" His confusion turned to indignation. "It's no business of yours."

"Kristoff, she's the Crown Princess of Arendelle, next in line to the throne. It's not only my business, it's the whole bloody kingdom's business."

"Why would anyone care if she's married?" Kristoff harrumphed.

Fitz refused to believe that he really didn't know the answer. "Are you intimate?" She gestured as if that was the obvious answer.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you having intimate relations? You know … sex. Do I need to draw a picture?"

Kristoff flushed bright red. "It's not your business."

"It is if you get her bloody pregnant."

Kristoff blinked in shock. "I won't. I'm careful. We're careful."

"Well, I'm wondering then what you're doing every night after dinner for hours." Fitz just shook her head and rolled her eyes to the heavens. "God save us from children 'being careful'!"

"We're not children! And we're ...we're ..." Kristoff sputtered, infuriated. "We're not doing anything that gets anyone pregnant. There are …there are other things to do, you know."

At that Fitz threw back her head and roared with laughter. "Oh. That I know. There are other things you can do."

Kristoff got up and slowly moved over to Fitz. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No, I'm just laughing near you." Fitz gave him a look out of the corner of her eye. "No need to get your britches in a twist." Then she stood and stared back at him, continuing in tone that was all command. "But if you're gonna do these … 'other things,' you're gonna propose. That way if one 'thing' ends up in the other 'thing' by accident, we don't have a royal crisis on our hands, do we?"

"And you're the one telling me to do this?" Kristoff growled. "You all high and mighty, white shirt and all, going to tell me that I have to get married."

"For god's sake, lay off my bloody white shirt. You've been complaining about it all day."

"Who wears a white shirt to go hunting?" Kristoff exclaimed again.

"This," Fitz gestured at her attire. "This is what a gentle-person wears on the hunt. If you had ever hunted in civilized company … in a civilized manner … you would know that. In fact, you could use to wear a white shirt every now and then. It might help you look slightly less like whatever the reindeer dragged in and more like someone who is courting a Princess."

"I look fine," Kristoff said loudly. "Anna doesn't mind what I wear."

"Of course, Anna doesn't mind," Fitz scoffed. "Is there anything that Anna does mind, really?"

"You don't get to talk about Anna that way."

"What way?" Fitz exclaimed. "I'm just trying to be helpful here. It's what everyone's thinking. You might as well know it, too."

"No, you're being a pompous, superior, stupid … stuck in the mud aristocratic … "

"I'm not a bloody aristocrat …."

"And you don't get to talk about the woman I love that way." Kristoff took a step closer.

"Oh, so then." Fitz didn't back off. "So you love her! So bloody get married … and then you can bloody do all the things you want with her, all bloody day long …."

"Stop telling me what to do!" Kristoff couldn't believe that she felt she could say this stuff. "You're a …. a …. a bloody hypocrite. We're not doing anything you're not doing. And it's not like I tell you not to f ..."

Fitz grabbed Kristoff by the shirt and pulled him to her. "Don't say it boy; you'll regret it."

"You mean it's OK for you and Elsa to …."

Fitz shook him hard."I said don't say it."

"You don't think everyone doesn't know what you're doing? Or is it OK, because when you f…." Kristoff never got to finish the sentence because Fitz's fist slammed into his jaw. He stumbled back and shook his head. Then with a roar they were both on each other rolling on the ground, fists flying.

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Fitz groaned as she forced one eye open. It was light. Early morning still, but light. She pushed her aching body upright, her stomach lurched and her head swam. Sitting on the ground, she looked around. It didn't take her any effort to figure out some of what she had done last night, clearly drinking had been part of the fun. But why was she under a bush, why did she hurt like she'd been beaten with a stick? And where the hell was …. Kristoff? She scowled. Kristoff. Troll juice. That bastard. She hoped he felt this bad because if he didn't she was going to rectify that. She looked around, however, and didn't see him. Well, she hoped he wasn't dead. Hurting yes, dead no. Dead would be difficult to explain.

She stood slowly and looked down at her clothing. "Fitz, you are a bloody mess," she muttered. She pulled off her jacket, stumbling a little … apparently not all of the troll juice had worn off yet. And laid it carefully over the bush that had been her shelter for the night. Of course any care she was taking with it now was not going to make up for the hard use it had seen the night before. But she knew from experience that it was salvageable. She'd had more than one night using her coat as a blanket in the past. This one would recover just as the others had.

Her shirt was covered with streaks of blood, which first made her nervous until she remembered she hadn't brought her sword for exactly this reason. It was … it was that bloody rabbit. The evening started coming back to her in waves. The rabbit. The aborted dinner. Troll juice. Bloody Kristoff and his infuriating inability to listen to reason. The fight.

She sighed. But if the way she felt was any measure, he gave as good as he got. That reassured her that there wasn't a Kristoff body somewhere around here. That would have been awkward with Anna … and Elsa … to say the least. She wondered if she should look for him, but decided against it. She'd let him sleep. She wished someone had done that for her. But since she was up, she wouldn't get back to sleep anytime soon, so she decided to take a look around their campsite. She started down the incline, simply because it was easier, took three steps … found a convenient bush to throw up in … and once her stomach was emptied of the foul green remnants of that vicious troll poison, she walked down to the nearby stream.

The stream was snow melt from the mountains, clean … and very cold. She tried a handful on her quivering stomach. It felt good going down, but less so coming back up. OK, so drinking would have to wait a bit, but there was more than one way to cleanse alcohol from your body.

She walked several yards downstream until she found a deeper spot where the water pooled. Stripping off her clothing and steeling her nerves she slowly made her way into the pool. At the last she forced herself to go under, a ragged gasp her only concession to the cold water. It was bracing to say the least.

But once she was in, she felt better. She leaned her head back against a smooth rock and engaged in a fantasy that little rivers of troll juice were exiting her body through her pores and were being carried away by the stream. She tried drinking the water again, and by the fourth try she was able to keep some down. She wasn't sure how long she stayed like this, floating, drinking … drifting, but it must have been a while until Kristoff came clomping through the brush.

"There you are," he said, clearly annoyed.

She splashed around to face him. He didn't look any better than she had this morning and that made her heart glad. He was even had a bit of a black eye. Ooooh, nice one Fitz, she thought.

"You're a sight," she replied with a smirk.

"Speak for yourself," Kristoff growled. "You looked pretty bad, too you know."

"But I feel better," Fitz said with a yawn, stretching. "You should get in. The water's bracing, but you're the hearty mountain type."

Kristoff suddenly looked wide-eyed at her, as if he just realized where she was. "Um, no," he said hesitantly.

"It's cold," she scoffed, "but it's not that bad. Really you'll feel better. Come on." She stood and gestured for him to come over. The water came up to her waist.

"No!" he barked, and then looked away, averting his eyes.

Fitz was puzzled for only a moment before she burst out laughing. "Oh my God," she chortled. "You're shy."

"Not shy," Kristoff replied tightly. "You're a woman."

"Am I?" Fitz answered, looking down at her breasts, her nipples taut from the cold. "Damn it! That explains so much." She rolled her eyes, at least her humor was returning.

"You're the one who was lecturing me on propriety last night!"

"I was, wasn't I? Clearly you did better with that troll juice than I did if you remembered that." She sunk back down into the pool. "Kristoff, the whole point of 'propriety' is to keep inappropriate things from happening, so that other even more inappropriate things …. like babies …. don't happen. I assure you there is no danger of that happening here. If that baby making appendage comes anywhere near me, I'll tear it off and throw it out for the wolves to eat."

Kristoff winced. "But .. but ..."

"Damn you man, just get in. You'll feel better."

Kristoff took a moment to think about it. Finally he said, "Turn around."

"Oh for Gods sake, it's not like I haven't seen a naked man before … I have served with hundreds of men. It's impossible to be modest on a ship."

"Turn around!"

"Fine."

She turned away and heard scuffling and rustling, which she supposed was Kristoff undressing. Then there was a splash, she was disappointed that he didn't seem to mind the cold as much, but at least she felt she had leave to turn around.

"There, no harm done, yes?" She teased Kristoff. "Your virginity still intact?"

He grunted something in reply. She almost asked again about his virginity, but decided that point had been made already. Then she leaned back and looked up at the sky, crossing her arms behind her head. The sun was fully up now, and it looked like it would be a beautiful cloudless day. When she looked back, she was surprised to see Kristoff's eyes running over her.

"For someone who didn't want to get undressed near a woman, you're certainly staring," she said.

"Oh, sorry." He colored and looked away. "You've got a lot of scars."

"Ah," she chuckled, "that's not the best of them. I have a nice one across my ribs here, and this," she pointed to the musket ball wound near her shoulder, "is her Majesty's favorite."

She shouldn't have said that, Elsa would be very displeased if she found out, but she couldn't resist … and her hunch was correct. Kristoff turned all manner of shades of red and finally ducked fully under the water to avoid her eyes. It was glorious. She was still laughing when he finally came up for air.

"Don't do that!" he hissed.

"What? Show you my scars? I paid for them; I should get to show them off, right?"

"You can't talk about … that."

"Well, you certainly wanted to talk about it last night," she grinned at him. "But you're right. I shouldn't. And if you tell her what I just said, well, you won't have to worry about marrying anyone."

"Look, about last night," Kristoff started.

But Fitz interrupted him. "No, I'm first. I apologize. I was out of line. Not incorrect mind you, but out of line."

Kristoff chuckled at her not quite a full apology. "I got a little out of line, myself." He sighed and leaned his own head back, "And really, you're right. I want to marry Anna. I love her, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

"So do it, man!" Fitz encouraged. "If you marry her, I guarantee the whole castle will sleep a lot better at night. What's keeping you? She's not going to say no. She adores you."

"I'm don't feel …" Kristoff found the words hard to say, although he didn't think they were surprising. "I don't feel good enough. I'm just some guy; she's a Princess. I didn't grow up in a castle. Hell, I didn't grow up indoors. You said it yourself. I don't even dress like someone who can be with a Princess, and I know that's what Anna is … even though you know, I like to think of her as just Anna." He gave her a hopeless look and shrugged his shoulders. "How can someone like me be with a Princess?"

Fitz shrugged back, "Join the club."

"What do you mean, 'join the club'?"

"You think I'm any more comfortable about my place … or worthy for that matter … to court the Queen? I may own a few more white shirts, but that's really not what counts in this game the way it's played at home."

"You … but you were born to this stuff."

"Me? Hell no. I was born no better off than you are. I am no noblewoman."

"You're the daughter of the King of Avalon, Anna told me that."

"Illegitimate daughter," Fitz said with a sigh. "A bastard, a term that has cost more than one man his life when he's sneered it at me. Trust me, my relationship with the King of Avalon only hurts my social standing; it doesn't improve it."

"Hmm..." Kristoff nodded. "So you're in the same place as me. You feel like you're not good enough?"

"Actually I think you're one or two steps ahead of me."

Kristoff looked at her in disbelief.

"You've told Anna you love her?"

"Yes," he said seriously. "All the time."

"And she tells you?"

"Yeah," he grinned a little shyly.

"Well … there you go. Two steps … hell, you told me you know you want to spend the rest of your life with her … so I don't know … a thousand steps ahead of me."

"I'm not sure I get it."

Fitz looked to the heavens and thought. Then she closed her eyes and said, "I'm a coward about this. I can't tell her I love her. I can't even say the word." She shook her head and opened her eyes to look at Kristoff. "I've been close enough to death to smell its stinking breath and not nearly this afraid. But … every time I think about how I feel … how I really feel … I get this knot inside of me, and I'm … I'm … I'm frightened. I'm frightened that I'm not good enough, that I can't be good enough, that I can't be the person she deserves." Fitz blinked and then brought her hand up to wipe at the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "Damn, the water must be getting warmer," she muttered after a moment. "My eyes are sweating."

"That happens," Kristoff said with a nod.

Fitz pulled herself together and sat up straight, which had Kristoff searching for someplace else to look. Then with a chuckle, she said, "Look, you're good enough for Anna. She thinks so, and she loves you. Really, that's what counts. How you look, that we can fix. How you behave when you're in formal situations … that's a learned skill, too. Trust me, I did not come out of the womb this suave and charming."

Kristoff groaned, the 'real' Fitz had returned.

"So how about we … you and I … get you a slightly better wardrobe. It doesn't have to be uncomfortable. You probably won't even notice what you're wearing most of the time. I've probably been as active as you for most of my life. There are things you can wear that aren't … pelts or whatever those are."

"But I don't have …."

"You'll owe me," Fitz said archly. "You're going to be a Prince."

"Oh ..." Kristoff's eyes got wide. "Oh …I didn't think about that."

"Yeah, but don't worry. You're far more palatable than many of the Princes I know … some related to me." She snorted thinking about how her half brothers always whined like babies when she hit them. "So what do you say, Prince-to-be Kristoff? How about you and I go find us a nice tavern and get a room for a couple of nights. You know, to keep me out of the way for my requisite days." Kristoff sighed, she hadn't let go of that yet. Fitz continued, "Then tomorrow we can go find you a white shirt or two."

"Shopping?" Kristoff sounded dubious.

"I promise we'll make it quick. I don't have patience for fondling fabrics and such myself … and we can refresh ourselves at frequent intervals … I know there are a number of fine pubs in the city."

Kristoff thought about it and then nodded. He would go. He had nothing against a bed and hot meals cooked by someone else. He certainly looked forward to some decent ale, as they seem to have consumed most of his troll juice the night before. And then he laughed. This trip had turned out to be shopping after all.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to Grrlgeek72 for the beta.


	8. The Manly Art of Hunting: 3

**A/N:** This is a joint collaboration with grrlgeek72. She was in charge of fighting; I did feels and fluff. Mistakes are mine. Cool words like "indeedy" are hers.

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**Chapter 3 – The Manly Art of Hunting, or,  
A Sailor and an Ice Harvester Walk into a Bar...**

Kristoff knew of an inn. Well, he knew several, but this was apparently his favorite. He and Fitz had procured a room; Sven had a space in the stable, which he suffered as an indignity. And after a well deserved nap that lasted well into the evening, they had made their way downstairs to the tavern proper.

Fitz drained her second tankard of ale and pushed back from the bare remains of her dinner of roast lamb, potatoes, and mushy peas; it was almost like being home. Certainly it was superior to swilling troll juice and spitting out shot pellets from a poorly roasted rabbit while slapping at the flying insects that infested the bloody woods of Arendelle. There had been a moment or two of awkwardness when the barmaid, a comely young lass named Brandy, had greeted Fitz with a surprised and pleased, "Captain Fitzwilliam!" Fitz vaguely - very vaguely - remembered her from a drunken binge the night of Elsa's birthday ball. It seemed the world, Arendelle in particular, was a very small place. But the girl seemed only pleased to see her, and Kristoff just grinned. She felt herself relaxing into something resembling bonhomie with Kristoff. They had come to a truce ... about Anna ... about Elsa ... about each other. At least enough of a truce so that there shouldn't be any more obscenity laden brawls, and enough so Elsa and Anna wouldn't notice any residual issues. That would be ... awkward.

Fitz did worry a bit about her unguarded admission to Kristoff about Elsa. She wasn't comfortable admitting she was afraid ... of anything. She didn't think Elsa had signed up for someone who was afraid. She certainly deserved someone who wasn't afraid of her own feelings, which sent Fitz down that whole rabbit hole again. But at least Fitz felt she could trust Kristoff's discretion with her confession. The man simply didn't have a devious bone in his body.

'Stop worrying,' she told herself. She wasn't at court in Avalon, where you had to watch your every move and every word. What was it Hanson had called it? 'Bastard Billy's snakepit of backstabbing intrigue.' The phrase struck her as particularly funny when she recalled it, and she was chuckling when Kristoff slapped her on the back.

"Come on, Fitz. You need to catch up. INNKEEP!" Kristoff bellowed, waving his empty tankard and pointing at Fitz's as well. Brandy rolled her eyes, but soon enough she was there and placed two more pints of Arendelle's finest in front of them. Fitz had to admit the kingdom had a better brewing industry than she would have expected for the climate. Any port was bound to have at least one decent pub with one decent beer, but she hadn't had a bad drink all night.

One small niggle of worry crossed Fitz's mind. Just how often did Kristoff go drinking like this? He was a big man and should have a fairly good capacity for his liquor, but still ... he looked a little unsteady.

The third and fourth pint soothed the worry, both about love and Kristoff's sudden lack of grace on his feet. Fitz was feeling mellow, regaling Kristoff with a story about a hunt involving a prissy Viscounte almost falling off his hunter on the first jump over some brambles. Kristoff laughed far more heartily than the story deserved. He had a silly grin on his face.

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Anna was just drifting off to sleep ….

Knock, knock, knock knock knock.

At first she thought it was a dream … a dream where she was knocking on her own door, hoping she would answer … no, that didn't make any sense … then she wondered if it was Gerda, or maybe Kai, but they just knocked … finally ….

"Anna … are you awake?"

"No," she groaned.

"Yes, you are." Elsa pushed open the door and came over to her bedside. She was in her night gown and had a robe on, but she seemed almost giddy, certainly not sleepy. "You're talking."

"I'm really not, this is just a dream … oooof." Anna flailed and tried to get up after Elsa jumped on her. They wrestled briefly. Anna had no problem tossing her sister off, but she over balanced … or Elsa grabbed her … or something, so that they both ended up tumbling from the bed in a tangle of limbs. With another groan, Anna looked over at Elsa from her vantage point on the floor. "What's the matter?"

"I can't sleep." Elsa rolled herself to a sitting position.

"That's two of us."

"You can't sleep either?" Elsa said almost cheerfully.

"Yeah, someone jumped on me."

"Oh," Elsa blushed, scrunched up her shoulders, and grinned, "Sorry."

Anna yawned, and then crawled back up on to her bed, hanging her head over the edge to face Elsa. "So you can't sleep?"

"Yes."

Anna gestured trying to pull a little more information from her sister, "Any reason why? Anything I can help with?"

Elsa looked slightly embarrassed, "Ummm …. well, since you asked ... I thought … you know … maybe you'd like to come back to my room and sleep there?"

"That's all the way down the hall, Elsa," Anna whined.

Elsa replied, "But my bed is bigger." To demonstrate she jumped on Anna again. "There's really not room for two people here."

"Ufff, tell me about it," Anna muttered, struggling to push Elsa off again. "OK, OK. Let me grab a robe."

"Yay!" Elsa bounced up and down on Anna, clapping her hands, before she was thrown back to the floor. This was not a completely unknown occurrence in Anna's experience. Every once in a long while, at least since her coronation, it seemed as if sprites or fairies kidnapped Elsa and left a five-year-old in her place. As if to confirm this, Elsa popped up and pulled her sister, who stumbled a bit, still groggy, back to her bedroom. They climbed into bed. Elsa on her side, Anna on what used to be hers, and now, she thought as her head hit the pillow, was really Fitz's.

"She's only been gone two days."

Elsa made a noncommittal noise suggesting she had no idea what Anna was talking about.

"You seemed fine last night."

"I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep. But I was feeling more kind, plus I couldn't wake you even when I pounded on the door." Elsa huffed out a breath in resignation. "I was afraid the whole castle would hear me."

Anna chuckled and reached over and wrapped her arms around her sister. "You're adorable when you're like this, which is good because otherwise you'd be dead." Anna added, "And aren't you glad I have no ambitions to be Queen."

Elsa sighed, "I don't want to be adorable; I want to be a responsible adult. For God's sake, I  _am_  the Queen. I thought I could sleep alone, but the bed was just so big."

"Well, I'm here now," Anna murmured. "So go to sleep."

Several minutes passed before Elsa asked, "How come it doesn't bother you? Kristoff comes and goes, sometimes for days."

It seemed they really were going to have a conversation at this time of night, Anna thought conceding to her sister's wishes. "I guess we're different, you and me. I mean obviously we're different, but particularly about this. I miss him, but I like the space to do my own things. But also we've been together longer … and really, my duties are lighter than yours, so if I want to see him, or even go with him, I can. You can't go with Fitz."

"This is going to be a problem when she ships out." Elsa made it a statement of fact.

"I'm sure that you'll figure something out." Anna wondered what the penalty was for knocking the Queen out with a candlestick … for her own good, of course.

"It was stupid of me to suggest she go away. But I didn't know I would feel this way." Elsa became pensive … wistful. "I used to be pretty good at spending time alone. What's wrong with me, Anna?"

Anna had to bite her lip from laughing. "Nothing's wrong with you Elsa. You're just a woman, who happens to be … if you don't mind my saying … in love with someone."

"I thought you told Olaf it was too soon for us to be in love," Elsa tried to affect an imperious tone, but her yawn undercut it.

"Wait, how did you know about that?" Anna asked.

"Olaf repeats everything, Anna. Verbatim. To everyone."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh."

There was a long silence as Anna pondered what other conversations may have slipped out of the snowman.

"Have I told you how much I love you," Elsa said, her voice finally taking on the tone of someone who might fall asleep soon.

Anna smiled, "Not too recently."

"I love you, Anna," Elsa muttered.

"And I love you too, Elsa." But Anna wasn't sure her sister heard her words. There was rhythmic breathing coming from the other side of the bed, a sound Anna knew meant her sister had finally fallen asleep. That would be great, if only she weren't wide awake.

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The pub was still busy; it was well into the wee hours of the morning and the crowd had started to dwindle, but still there was a steady flow coming through the doors, and some hard core drinkers who hadn't gone home from earlier, Fitz and Kristoff among those. It was near the docks, so the clientele tended to be sailors looking for shore leave fun and burly dockworkers. A rough crowd, in other words.

"...scruffy reindeer herder. Think the princess is as soft and furry as his other beast?" and raucous laughter drowned out the rest of it. Fitz heard it clearly, but thank the gods Kristoff had wandered out to relieve himself. She looked around to see where the vulgar comments were coming from.

There were five toughs at the next table, empty tankards and whiskey glasses plentiful in front of them. From their clothing, Fitz thought they were dockworkers.

She stood up and turned to them. This was not an insult she could tolerate. Speaking of Kristoff that way was one thing ... speaking of the Crown Princess was entirely another. No one spoke of House Arendelle that way in her presence.

The ruffians were so engaged in their tawdry jests that it took them a minute to realize Fitz was looming over the table with a scowl on her face. The biggest one threw back his whiskey and slammed the glass on the table.

"Well, well, well. Lookie here boys! Another castle snob slumming with us lowlifes. Guess it's not just the princess's boyfriend who needs to look for love in all the wrong places!" His companions laughed uproariously at this jab. "Not getting enough at the castle, sweetling? I can fix that!"

"Lowlifes, indeed, rather an understatement I would say." She leaned right into the man's face. "Now keep a civil tongue in your head, you ill-mannered boor, before I cut it out and feed it to the dogs!" Fitz was losing control quickly.

Instead of an angry bellow, the tough simply laughed harder. "You and what army, little girl! Looks like the queen has an even worse taste in 'men' than her ditzy sister!" The lewd emphasis had his fellows laughing so hard they nearly fell out of their chairs.

Fitz's vision went red with rage. She reached to sweep her sword out of its scabbard ... and clutched empty air. Habits die hard. She had left the sword at the castle when they went on their trip.

Kristoff returned just in time to see Fitz launch herself at the mouthy one, wrapping her hands around his neck and knocking him off his stool and onto the floor. She was screaming, "You foul pig! I'll teach you how to speak of your betters!" as she rolled around in the sawdust with him, trying to pin him so she could beat the crap out of him properly.

The ale had addled Kristoff's brain, but he recognized an unfair fight when he saw it, even if he didn't know what had started this one. The other toughs had jumped to their feet, looking to mix it up with Fitz. Five against one would be brutal. Kristoff grabbed the shoulder of the nearest one and spun him around.

"Hey! Leave my friend alone!"

The tough slapped Kristoff's hand off and pushed him in the chest. "Back off, ice man! Unless this bitch is more to you than your prissy girlfriend and that other scruffy reindeer you sleep with!"

Kristoff was tall, broad-shouldered, and strong. This sneer washed every trace of ale out of his blood and replaced it with pure berserker rage. His fist sent the tough flying back to crash onto the table, smashing it to splinters and sending tankards and glasses flying everywhere.

"You bastard, I'll kill you!" the man yelled, pulling himself up from the wreckage of the table, and the fight was on.

The other patrons of the bar scrambled out of the way. Fights were common and considered just part of the entertainment for this crowd. Staying well back to avoid flying furniture and bodies, they cheered on the brawling combatants and made bets. Two against five still wasn't even, but some of the onlookers were connoisseurs of the art of bar brawls, and could tell Kristoff and Fitz weren't going to be easy meat for the five hooligans.

Eventually, the gendarmes arrived to restore peace and arrest the participants. Kristoff and Fitz were still standing, well, swaying, but they were on their feet. The five toughs were scattered around the bar, out cold. One was on the street in front of the establishment where Fitz had thrown him through the window. Another had disappeared behind the bar after Kristoff bounced him off the shelves of liquor behind it. A third moaned in a soprano pitch, curled up and clutching himself where Fitz had landed a kick. With her boot. Hard.

As the gendarmes marched them off to the lockup, Fitz rubbed her skinned knuckles and realized they were going to have to explain all this to Elsa and Anna. She groaned inwardly. What had they done.

Suddenly, getting shanghaied onto a bumboat with a cargo of green hides bound for the East Indies didn't seem like such a bad billet. Particularly as an alternative to explaining to the Queen and her sister just WHY Kristoff and Fitz had gotten into that fight. Fitz gulped down bile.

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Anna was just drifting off to sleep ….

Knock, knock. "Your Majesty?"

Oh ... Who now? Anna thought as she started, sitting up.

Elsa's eyes blinked open and she answered, "Yes?"

"Your Majesty? " It was Kai. Elsa pushed herself up and tried to rub the sleep from her eyes.

"Kai. What is it?"

"You Majesty, I am reluctant to bother you, but the Captain of the Arendelle Gendarmerie is here. He's requesting an audience with you to discuss a rather delicate situation."

"The town gendarmerie?" Elsa got quickly out of bed, grabbed her robe, and opened her door, closing it behind her and meeting Kai in her sitting room. "It's the middle of the night, Kai. If it's not an emergency, it can wait until morning."

Kai cleared his throat. "Ahem. Not precisely an emergency, Ma'am. But ... well, it seems that ... Kristoff and the Lady Fitzwilliam are ... guests in his jail, and he would like to discuss their release with you." Kai winced as he waited for the explosion.

"WHAT?!" The temperature in the room dropped significantly, and a small ice patch formed where Elsa slammed her foot on the floor.

Anna's head popped out of the bedroom door. "Say that again, Kai?"

"No, don't," Elsa added tightly. Control, Elsa, control. She forced herself to calm down so that she could deal with this situation and the Gendarme Captain. Kai studied the ceiling, the floor, the interesting pattern on the sofa, giving her the time she needed. She took a deep breath to clear her head. Anna slipped out of the bedroom and perched on a nearby chair.

"Please bring him in, Kai. And would you be so kind as to notify the guard captain that we may need a few of his men to go into town shortly."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Kai left. The two sisters looked at each other, Anna quizzical, Elsa furious. And Kai returned with the Gendarme Captain in tow.

"Your Majesty, thank you for seeing me so promptly." He greeted her with a slightly nervous bow and a smile for the Princess. His duties rarely required him to meet with the Queen. He certainly never thought he would have to pull her out of bed, which clearly he had.

"Yes, well, you're welcome, Captain." She almost said, 'anytime,' but thought better of it. "Please, be seated." And she waved him to one of the chairs in front of her. "Now, how may I be of assistance?" She left the question open-ended, she wanted to hear what he would say.

"Ah, well, Your Majesty. It seems that there was a rather large and noisy brawl earlier this evening at one of the more disreputable taverns near the docks." A gulp. "And two of the participants were Mr. Bjorgman and Lady Fitzwilliam." He looked at her warily, hoping she wouldn't make an ice sculpture out of him. He felt slightly more at ease with the Princess there.

"Indeed?" Elsa's voice could only be described as ... chilly. "Do go on, Captain. I am not in the habit of shooting the messenger. Please tell me about this... brawl. All of it. Why on earth would Kris...I mean, Mr. Bjorgman, and Lady Fitzwilliam participate in such a thing?"

The Gendarme Captain was careful in his reply. He didn't KNOW anything about the ... discussion ... that preceded the melee. Just gossip from the bartender as his men gathered up the riff raff to take them to jail. Gossip he was most DEFINITELY not going to share with his Queen ... or the Crown Princess. Oh, no indeedy not.

"Ahem, well, you know, that sort of place attracts a pretty rough crowd, almost anything could have started the fight. A comment taken the wrong way, an accidental spill of a glass of whiskey. Too much whiskey. Anything. It's practically a sport with sailors and dockworkers." There, that was safe enough. He was sure the Queen didn't spend enough time in dockside bars to spot any discrepancy. He hoped.

He continued, "The fight entailed a lot of damage; destroyed furniture, broken glassware, spilled liquor, a broken window..." Elsa interrupted him.

"My lord, Captain! Was anybody hurt?" Anna gasped. Elsa had a sudden vision of Kristoff and Fitz, broken and bleeding, concern supplanting her anger.

"Oh, no, Your Majesty! Just the usual cuts and bruises. Your two," he almost said fellows, but then remembered that to his surprise the second combatant wasn't, "people didn't suffer anything serious. I'm sure that when the five toughs wake up, they'll be ... well, not maimed or dead or anything too very damaging."

"Five?! Against Kristoff and Carolina!" Elsa was so distraught she used their familiar names.

The Captain tried to reassure her. "Don't worry, Your Majesty. They were the only two left standing. Haven't seen such an expert drubbing of a crowd of ruffians in a long time." He chuckled.

Regaining her composure, Elsa sat a little straighter and put a serious expression back on her face. The Captain sobered as well.

"Ah. And the reason I'm here is to ask if you'd like to bail them out? Perhaps provide a guard escort to bring them back here?" He waited nervously. "The bail is unfortunately substantial, what with all the damage."

Elsa thought about it. "Thank you, Captain. A guard escort to bring them back here in chains sounds like an excellent idea. We wouldn't want anyone to think that just because they were ... friends ... with the Queen and Crown Princess that they would receive special treatment. Kai, here, will also accompany you and my guards." Kai had been standing just inside the door, unobtrusively listening to the discussion. He nodded.

"If you would be so kind as to follow him, Kai will take you down to gather up some guardsmen, and you can be on your way." Elsa finished brightly. Taking the hint, the Captain rose, bowed, and walked out of the office.

Kai hesitated at the door. "Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Kai?" Her response came through clenched teeth and a few snowflakes.

"Would you possibly consider leaving them there for a few days?" Wistfully. "It has been nicely quiet with Lady Fitzwilliam ... away."

She hesitated. "No, Kai. Go get them. Anna and I will be waiting for you in the stables when you get back." She was briefly tempted, but then remembered how empty her bed seemed without Fitz.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

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Anna was pacing around in front of Sven's stall, fuming. "How could they DO this? They were supposed to be having a nice, quiet hunting trip, enjoying the outdoors of beautiful Arendelle. Killing things! What the heck were they doing down by the docks, anyway?"

Elsa could see the little parade of prisoners and guards coming across the courtyard, escorted by one annoyed looking reindeer. "They're coming, Anna. Let's give them a chance to explain themselves before we ... we ... put them in the stocks!"

"Stocks?! I didn't know we had any of those left." Anna looked sharply to her sister.

"We don't. But I can always have some built." Elsa replied tersely as the two prisoners were marched in. They were clearly chagrined and embarrassed, and Kristoff looked everywhere except at the two women. Fitz's eyes didn't roam, but she had the look of someone facing the guillotine. To say that they were rumpled and dirty would be massive understatement. Kristoff self-consciously tried to brush off more sawdust from his pants. His chains clinked.

"Thank you, gentlemen. If you would be so kind as to remove the shackles, I believe you can return to your regular duties, and I will handle this matter from here."

The guards saluted, unlocked the manacles from Kristoff and Fitz, saluted again, and left the stable.

A deathly quiet stable. Elsa and Anna simply stood there, arms crossed, glaring at their lovers. After what seemed like an eternity, Elsa quietly asked through gritting teeth, "Well? What do you two have to say for yourselves?"

Kristoff and Fitz looked at each other. Fitz shrugged and started. "Well, we were just having a quiet drink, minding our own business, and these hooligans decided to pick a fight." Kristoff nodded, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Elsa really didn't spend much time in dockside bars, but this smelled fishier than a three day old salmon. Anna jumped in before she could ask another question.

"Kristoff! You NEVER go to bars! What were you thinking?"

"Hey! We just decided to enjoy a little civilized drinking and pub food after a whole ... day ... of hunting. A hunting expedition that was NOT my idea, you'll remember!" Kristoff decided a little offense might be the best defense and tried to look indignant.

Elsa glared at Fitz even more intently. "Somehow I don't think it was that simple." She could tell by the way the two of them kept looking at each other that there was something going on they didn't want to share.

Fitz stared right back as she thought furiously, trying to figure out some way to explain the fight without getting into sordid details. She would NOT hurt Elsa by spelling out what the toughs had said, and Anna didn't deserve that either. She had just decided on what she hoped were appropriately delicate circumlocutions when Kristoff spoke up.

"It was my fault." He stood up straighter. "They insulted Sven. Called him scruffy. Told me they heard I practiced animal husbandry with him. Then they called my sled 'sissy'." Kristoff hung his head. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't let that insult to my best buddy go unchallenged!" He reached over and ruffled Sven's fur. "Right, buddy?"

Sven brayed in agreement, sure he would be rewarded in carrots. Fitz just stood there with her mouth hanging open.

Kristoff went on "And so I punched out the first loudmouth, then his four buddies jumped me. If it wasn't for Fitz here, I'd be a sawdust-covered stain on the floor of that dive." Kristoff looked at Elsa and Anna. "I'm sorry I got her into that mess. Forgive me?"

Elsa was angry, but it was diminishing fast. Still, she wasn't going to let them off quite that easy. Glancing at Anna, she could tell her sister was starting to go all gooey over her boyfriend's defense of his reindeer. Elsa stiffled a giggle, then put her stern face back on.

"Yes, I think we forgive you." Before they could get too relieved, she continued, "but there needs to be SOME penalty. Besides the enormous fine, bail, and damages you two will be paying off for the forseeable future."

This elicited a wince from both miscreants. Fitz wondered what the pay of a cabin boy was in the Arendelle navy. That was probably the best she could hope for once the Admiralty heard about  **this**  little cock up.

Elsa wasn't finished, however. "So, I think it would be appropriate for you two to spend some time with Sven. Here. In the stable. Sleeping on the hay. Contemplating the virtues of forbearance in the face of provocation."

"Come, Anna!" she said as she swept out of the stable. Anna winked at Fitz, blew a little kiss to Kristoff, and followed her, giggling, "animal husbandry."

Fitz let out a long breath. She turned to Kristoff. "Thank you."

Kristoff looked at her quizzically. "What for?"

"You know what for! For covering my ass! For keeping them from hearing that filth! For...for being a true gentleman and my brother-in-arms." Fitz realized that Kristoff truly was her friend. Because she was Fitz, not because she was the Queen's lover and had to be tolerated. And, wasn't that something to be thankful for.

The laconic ice harvester shrugged it off. "Don't mention it. You would do the same for me." Then he chuckled.

"What now?" Fitz asked.

"That goon you kicked in the nads? I was just remembering how he squealed like a little girl!" Kristoff said and laughed out loud.

Fitz slapped him on the back and laughed, too. "Yeah, but not as loudly as that berk you threw into the bar. That was something, I've never seen anyone throw a man overhand before."

"Well, you tossed that guy out the window ..."

"Just a little judicious redirection of his force. Something I picked up in the Caribbean."

"He really flew."

"He certainly did, didn't he." As they laughed and continued exchanging kudos and fist bumps, they went looking for some blankets. And carrots for Sven.

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Anna was just drifting off to sleep ….

"Anna. Anna!" Her sister's voice cut through the haze of her near slumber.

"What now?" she groaned.

Elsa was looking out the window. "It's almost dawn."

"Oh, thank heaven," Anna grumbled, "I thought I was going to oversleep."

"Come on," Elsa came over to her bedside and tugged at her sleeve. Anna opened one eye. "You wanna build a snowman?"

The two sisters giggled their way to the barn. Anna peered in the various stalls, finally gesturing to the last one. "Yep, it's them. They're here. They look so cute when they're sleeping. I hate to wake them. " Elsa came over and Anna pointed to where Fitz and Kristoff were cuddled together in the hay. Fitz had her head buried in Kristoff's chest; he had wrapped his arms around her. They did look remarkably peaceful and remarkably asleep. A gentle snoring filled the air … and from Kristoff, too.

"Fortunately I don't have the same problem," Elsa said evilly, a grin on her face. And she rotated her hands, throwing the resulting snowball so it hit Fitz square on the back of her neck, sending wet snow spraying up into Kristoff's face.

"Ah!" He shot up suddenly, madly flailing to free himself what ever wet cold thing had attacked him in his sleep. Fitz let out an abrupt yelp as she was thrown across the stall. Suddenly she was really cold, and it was snowing … heavily … in the stall.

"What the bloody hell?" she roared as another snowball pegged her on the head.

"Rise and shine," Elsa called out to them. "Criminals don't get to sleep in."

"Sleep in," Fitz said fuming, "It's … it's bloody dawn."

Kristoff grimaced and grabbed his aching head; between the cold and the shouting it felt like it would fall off. Anna braved the snowstorm to walk over to him, but as she got closer she stopped and leaned back in disgust. "Ewwww! Criminals do get to take baths, though …. like right now. And drink some coffee or something. What were you drinking last night?"

"Just your bloody beer," Fitz answered for Kristoff, growling as Elsa hit her with another snowball. "You stop that … you … you..." There was no appropriate word that she could use publicly. "This is all your fault!" She pulled open the stall door, and Elsa backed away, hands at the ready for a little defensive magic.

"My fault?"

"Yes, don't think I didn't catch on to your little ruse," Fitz grumbled, stalking toward the Queen.

"Ruse?" Elsa batted her eyelashes innocently.

"Sending me off. Making poor Kristoff my nanny." Fitz continued toward Elsa.

'Poor Kristoff' gave a sad nod and moaned softly in agreement. Anna, moved by this piteous display, started to lead him away to safety and a bath. She had the sense that things were going to get very chilly in here in a minute, and there was no reason for them to be caught in the crossfire that was the unstoppable Fitz running into the immoveable Elsa.

As Fitz closed with the Queen, Elsa tossed off a quick bit of ice at Fitz, freezing her boots to the floor. This had worked before, so she was surprised when Fitz neatly stepped out of them and bolted forward backing her into the stable wall.

"Wait … What are you doing?" Elsa asked, her eyes open wide as she felt wood at her back.

"I'm demonstrating tactics," Fitz growled. Then she said, "Anna!" in a loud voice. "This is why you play to your strengths when you are over matched. Close quickly when your opponent has reach."

Anna, and Kristoff, stopped in the stable doorway looking back.

"Your sister is a glass cannon. Powerful at a distance but easily shattered close up."

"A glass what … I'm not a glass …. aaah!" Elsa shrieked as Fitz dug her fingers into her ribs and tried to bat them away. Fitz chortled and wrapped her up in her right arm as her left hand continued to tickle. The Queen's squeals continued unabated.

"Oh, get a room," Anna said with a smirk. "Come on, Kristoff. We should leave them alone to work out … whatever it is they're working out." Then she pulled Kristoff back toward the castle. The Ice Queen could get herself out of her own mess this time.


End file.
